Brighter Days
by Mirime ceea
Summary: Lothiriel's promise to visit Eowyn is fulfilled. During her stay in Rohan, Lothiriel is once again free to be her true self, and forms a close friendship with the King of Rohan. A continuation of my story line from "No Secrets Between Us," (you don't have to have read it first) this looks at how Lothiriel and Eomer end up together.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I am not JRRTolkien, or any of his decedents. I make no claim on these characters, and seek no monetary compensation for this story.

Though I do not think it is necessary to read my first story _No Secrets Between Us_ (Faramir and Eowyn), this story does continue in that story line.

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Lothiriel's excitement was affecting her horse. Barely content with the steady pace the Swan Knights around her kept, Lothiriel's horse walked a few steps, then trotted, only to return to a walk. After watching this process for a few minutes Amrothos rode over to her.

"You will tire Mirime out if you keep riding like this." He pointed out, but his eyes sparkled mischief.

"We are so close, dear brother," she replied, in a formal tone. "How can you expect me to remain calm?"

"Is it the potential to lie in a real bed tonight that has you so worked up? Or the prospect of a bath? Oh, I know, it's the chance to wear something that does not smell like a horse."

Lothiriel laughed. "We are in Rohan." She drew out the name of the country as if Amrothos was slow to understand. "We have almost made it to Edoras, the seat of the Horselords. Everything is going to smell like horse." She smiled. "And you know why I am excited, so do not play with me."

Amrothos nodded gravely. "Yes, it is a foolish man who plays at the heart of a woman in love."

"I beg your pardon?" Lothiriel was honestly confused. "In love?"

"Yes, we ride to see your great Horselord – the one you dragged me on a ten day journey to visit. But you have yet to tell me who it is – Eothain… no he's married." Lothiriel started laughing. "Erkanbrand is twice your age but he might do well for you as a husband. No. I know. It is the King of Rohan himself who has caught your eye, and all the better for our countries." Lothiriel laughed harder.

"Oh yes." She replied, gasping for breath. "You have found me out dear brother. I am madly in love with the King of Rohan, a man I have spoken to directly but three times and each time it has been to scold his care of his sister. From those three times he has irrevocably fallen for me and now I ride to his side where I shall stay forever."

"I knew it to be so." Amrothos responded, continuing the jest. "But tell me, little sister, how ever shall I bear the separation from you? When you leave for Rohan I shall never see you again, for I have nothing as motivating as love to encourage me to ride for ten days straight for a visit."

"Then you shall have to do as I do and ride ten days to see a good friend." Lothiriel smiled, though her tone became serious. "I was anxious to leave Eowyn here alone for the winter, though she promised it would turn out fine."

"The Lady Eowyn is not one to tell false tales. If she told you she would be fine here with out you then it was so. You were much better off serving the Queen this winter, and now you have leave to fulfill your promise to your friend." It was an old argument that was moot at this point as they were almost on the doorstep of Edoras.

"I wish I could have been there for her more, though." She put in the last word. "Her letters were not as cheerful as I hoped for."

Amrothos gave her arm a small squeeze. "You are too kind, dear sister. You want to solve all the world's ills. It becomes you, but it is not practical."

"And you are always a great source of practical advice." She added dryly.

"No, but I'm ironical. I never say what you expect." He pulled his horse away and went to talk to one of the Knights.

Lothiriel smiled. It was a good thing to be so close to seeing Eowyn again.

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At the gates of Edoras Eomer King, and his Marshals met them. After dismounting their horses were led away to the stables, and Lothiriel turned to greet Eomer King. She was slightly apprehensive about their greeting; it was true what she told Amrothos. She had only spoken to Eomer King two or three times and each time it was a scold for his callous treatment of his sister.

She gave a deep curtsy, and to her left Amrothos bowed. He then stepped forward and Eomer King grabbed him in a one armed hug. This was her real plan for bringing Amrothos with her, though his escort was one of the reasons her father allowed her to go in the first place. Over the past year Amrothos and the King had become close friends. She hoped that having her brother with her would smooth any past awkwardness between her and Eomer King, and that his presence would allow her to be able to spend more time with Eowyn and less time with her host.

After greeting them in his own language, Eomer King restated his words in Western. _I hope Eowyn has told him that Amrothos and I have studied the Rohirric language over the past months and now know more than polite greetings._ But she did not let this show on her face, and instead gave a grave and traditional reply in Western.

They were ushered inside the gate and began the walk up the hill. Lothiriel was engrossed in refreshing her memory of the pathways, and did not hear Eomer King ask her a question.

She heard her brother call her name though. "Lothiriel." She turned to see both him and Eomer King looking at her. It took her a second to realize she missed something.

"I beg pardon, Eomer King," she blushed and gently inclined her head. "I was remembered where the roads led, from my previous trip here."

He nodded in response. "I asked if your travel was pleasant."

Lothiriel bit back a smile at that. "While I certainly enjoyed parts of the days on the road, I would say that my favorite part of any travel is arriving at the final destination."

"Lothiriel has being putting her horse through her paces today," Amrothos laughed, unable to resist a chance to tease his sister. "She was too excited to keep at the mild pace set by our guards."

She resisted making a face at her brother, and gave her most polite smile instead. "I have looked forward to seeing Eowyn again for many months now. The last few hours were almost unbearable."

"She is looking forward to seeing you as well. She enjoyed reading your letters over the winter months."

"I am glad to hear she received pleasure from our correspondence." Lothiriel agreed, blandly. Inwardly she sighed. This was as bad as the formal court dinners under her Uncle Denethor. Next she supposed she would have to make some inane comment about the weather.

Fortunately it seemed that Eomer King had nothing more to say in such dull conversation and instead looked to Amrothos to ask about the new patterns of arrow fletching the Gondorian fletchers were attempting. Lothiriel couldn't help but turn her attention to the conversation. She was truly excited by the new designs and brought some arrows specifically to show Eowyn.

 _Don't respond_ she reminded herself, when Amrothos erred in one of his explanations. _You don't want any more attention than you need._

The road turned in a slight curve and when they rounded it the hall of Meduseld stood but a few feet away. Eowyn waited to the side of the short flight of steps, as she had when Lothiriel visited last time. _She's still wearing white,_ Lothiriel noted with a mental sigh, and then looked with a healer's eyes to try to spot any of the visible signs of distress that plagued her friend the last time they met. It was hard to tell. Eowyn held herself proudly as she welcomed her guests in Rohirric. Unlike her brother, she did not translate her words and her eyes sparkled a challenge to Lothiriel.

Instead of curtsying as if to noble host in Gondor, Lothiriel placed her hands flat against her legs and gave, she hoped, a credible bow. "It is good to be here again my friend." She responded in the same language, wincing slightly at her pronunciation. It was hard to get her voice used to speaking different vowel sounds.

Eowyn smiled, and it was a rare moment when Lothiriel saw her friend's true face – the face that time, trouble, and despair almost erased. "You have improved much," Eowyn said in Rohirric. "But your accent is terrible." She added, switching fluidly to Western.

"We practiced the best we could, Lady Eowyn." Her brother added in Rohirric, his accent was not as bad. "But tutors are few and far between in Gondor." He had to switch to Western for the last part; their vocabulary was not very large yet.

"I am certain that you will find some one who will be able to teach you here." Eowyn said, and Lothiriel noticed that Eowyn's body had stiffened somewhat as Amrothos stepped closer to greet her.

"If not here, then nowhere." Amrothos smiled gently and backed away on the pretense of putting his arm around his sister's shoulder. This Lothiriel did not mind at all, and she smiled at her brother's perceptive nature.

"There is a light midday meal prepared for you," Eowyn continued though her voice was slightly more brittle than before and her smile had lost its ease. "Would you like to see your rooms before you eat?"

Amrothos and Lothiriel shared a look. "I believe we are agreeable to that plan, but we will not hold you up for long, my Lady," Amrothos accepted for the two of them and they were led inside.

Eowyn guided them along the hallways and stopped by one door that led to Amrothos's room. Lothiriel's was a little further down the hall, and Eowyn stepped into it with her.

"Our rooms connect you see," Eowyn said, answering the question Lothiriel did not ask. "Forgive me, for we have finer rooms, but we have had visitors showing up unexpected or at short notice of late. I would rather have you in the connecting room than a stranger."

"The room is beautiful Eowyn," Lothiriel replied. "I have nothing to complain of." The room was lovely – the curtains were a rich green that matched the bedspread and small carpet. The other dominant color was the deep mahogany of the wooden bed that matched the small table and chair that were placed facing the window.

"The view is what makes this room special," Eowyn told her as they moved to take it in. Lothiriel basked in the sun as she looked out over the plains to the snow capped mountains in the distance. Though magnificent, Lothiriel could not see much difference between this room and the one she had occupied before. She turned a questioning glance to her friend, which made Eowyn laugh. "Give it a month and a half, or so. You'll see. I'll leave you to change if you wish. There's water behind that door, and space for your clothes in the small chest of drawers you find as well."

"I'm sure I will find everything I need." Lothiriel reassured her friend. "If you give me a few minutes I will be ready to leave."

Eowyn nodded, then left, not through the door that joined their rooms together, but out through the door that led to the hallway.

Lothiriel gave an inward sigh of relief. A half a year of planning, convincing her father, convincing the King and Queen, convincing her brother, and two weeks of travel were over. It felt like a heavy load was off her back. She was here, in Rohan, with a mysterious window to observe, and more importantly she had time – months of time – to spend with Eowyn and help her in any way possible. Then at the end of her months she would accompany Eowyn to Minas Tireth and do everything in her power to make sure that Eowyn settled there.

 _Then what?_ Her mind queried as she found a simple afternoon gown from her belongings and went to wash up. She couldn't answer the question. Too much of it depended on things beyond her control. The Queen had hinted that they might need her to secure the loyalty of one or another nobles. That meant marriage and moving to a new part of the world. Otherwise perhaps she would stay in court with the Queen for a while, or perhaps she would go home to her father's house.

Putting it out of her mind for the time, Lothiriel finished washing up and made herself ready for her first day in Edoras.

True to the time Lothiriel suggested, Eowyn knocked lightly at the door connecting their two rooms, and entered when Lothiriel responded.

"I thought…" Eowyn began and then stopped to take a deep breath. "I thought I might try to sleep with the door between our two rooms unlocked while you're here. You were right in your letters that I should try to open up parts of my life that he… that were lost during…" Lothiriel smiled encouragingly and waited. Eowyn shook her head as if trying to escape her thoughts. "I thought it would be good to try since I know you are a light sleeper."

"I am." Lothiriel smiled. "And I will sleep with my bow if you like, to give you extra security. I have brought some of the new arrows that I spoke of, as well as my light bow – the one that is made in the style of the Rangers of Ithilien."

Eowyn returned the smile with a small one of her own. "Does this mean that I am allowed to drag you on to the practice fields tomorrow?"

"I do not think dragging will be involved." Lothiriel laughed. "Unless you plan to make me shoot before breakfast. Then I might have to put up some resistance."

"I promise, breakfast first," Eowyn gave a true smile, and led Lothiriel out of the room. "Then perhaps we can go on a ride out to some of the surrounding villages. I promised I would stop by to see what they need to tide them over until the first harvests start to come in."

"I would enjoy that. I need help learning your language, and I can think of few better ways to study."

"I shall introduce you to some of the children in Edoras who are learning Western then, and you can teach each other."

"Do not, under any circumstance, put Lothiriel in charge of children." Lothiriel's brother's voice boomed down the hall. He stood a few feet off with Eomer. "Or else do not hold me responsible for any pranks that go on in your house. Lady Eowyn, you do not know your peril, for my sister is as crafty as her cousin Faramir."

"I believe, brother dear, that the long ride has addled your mind. You seem to be mistaking your behavior for jokes with mine. I cannot recall the last time something's gone awry when you were not at the bottom of it all."

Amrothos considered her statements. "I do believe you are right, but that does not change the fact that you have the potential to cause mischief. The same blood runs through our veins."

"And the veins of Erichen and Elphir. Does that make me a sailor and a captain as well as a jester? Eowyn, I am sorry that I brought him into your beautiful home. It will truly be on me if anything goes awry." Lothiriel apologized dramatically to her friend and had the joy of seeing Eowyn's smile reappear.

"You are forgiven. Our home has survived years of jests, and I do not believe anyone could cause as much damage as Eomer had in his youth."

"Indeed?" Lothiriel turned her gaze to Eomer, and looked him over as if assessing his potential to cause mischief. He looked taken aback at Eowyn's response, but a small smile grew on his face.

"Indeed, Lady Lothiriel." He replied mock gravely. "I am afraid to admit that it's true. But, if I admit it then, by your brother's standard, my sister must admit that mischief runs in her blood too."

Eowyn's smile held. "I will neither admit nor deny anything." She then gestured. "But we are being rude hosts, brother, to keep our guests from the table." She led Lothiriel down the hall, leaving their brothers to sort themselves out. "I did not plan anything special for our meal. We are still conserving food before the first harvests come." Lothiriel reassured her that they were there to visit, not to be entertained.

"When do you plan to depart for Minas Tireth?" Lothiriel asked as the four of them sat and were served bread with cold meat and cheese on the side.

"A little under two months." Eowyn replied. "I had also hoped you would help me prepare for this engagement banquet we are supposed to host for the nobility of Gondor upon our arrival."

"My time is yours Eowyn," Lothiriel said earnestly. "I came here with no other expectation than to be at your beck and call for the next two months."

"And to learn Rohirric." Amrothos added. She nodded at his point.

"If it's convenient." She added.

" _I believe we could manage that_ " Eowyn answered in Rohirric.

It took Lothiriel a minute to work out what she said, and then Lothiriel replied " _My thanks."_

"Did Faramir give you a list of people attending your engagement banquet already?" Amrothos asked after they sat for a few minutes quietly eating.

"Yes." Eowyn replied. "I have not learned all their names yet, but there must be twice as many ladies coming as men."

Amrothos and Lothiriel exchanged a glance. "Why would Faramir wish to invite them?" Amrothos asked.

Lothiriel was answering even as he finished speaking. "He probably knows that there is very little option of who can be invited, and who cannot."

"But he must know they are not coming for the banquet, they are coming for the Hunt." Amrothos replied.

"We have not organized a hunt," Eomer King stated, clearly not hearing the emphasis on the word. "And hunting is best in the winter, even in Gondor, or so I am told."

Amrothos started laughing at that point, and Lothiriel struggled to keep a straight face. "My lord, you misunderstand my brother." She said after she got her emotions under control. "He does not mean a hunt for wild animals. He is crassly talking about the games noble Gondorian women will play in order to try to marry the most eligible male possible."

Eowyn's forehead puckered as she frowned a little. "But I thought you said that it was an arranged marriage for most women in Gondor."

"It is," Amrothos agreed. "But it depends from family to family, and on how much of a dowry the daughter will have, and on the rank of the family the daughter is from…" he trailed off. "For example, as much as we love her, Lothiriel will probably have little say in whom she marries. Father will try to give her some choice, but because she is the only daughter of the only remaining Princedom in Gondor it is possible that the King will try to use her to ally us with another country."

"However," Lothiriel sternly broke in, trying not to think of how depressing that sounded, "some families of lower nobility allow their daughter to choose. The ladies who are coming, I believe I could name many from that list, will come to try to catch the attention of your noble brother Eowyn. I will leave it at that, and ask how this cheese is made for it's nothing like I've tasted before."

After a few more mundane topics, they ended their lunch and went their separate ways.

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A/N: Three years ago I was moving down to NM, and one of the ways I kept myself sane was to edit, rewrite, write, and post my story No Secrets Between Us.

Now I find myself moving back eastward, and needing the same reassurance that I will have something to look forward to - such as posting this story that I have lived with for so long. As far as I plan, I will update on the first of each month though updates might be sooner as things return to stability.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it so far. Please share any thoughts, comments, concerns, or corrections.

If you wish to beta this, please PM me.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien. I wish to make no profit from this story.

Thank you diamondrose57 for reviewing! Truly made my day.

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"Now that we have the menu prepared, and the entertainment decided on, shall we look at the seating arrangements?" Eowyn asked Lothiriel as they walked down the freshly aired hall. Her engagement banquet had not been the only topic of conversation over the past week, but to Lothiriel it felt that it had dominated all other subjects unfairly.

"It actually should be fairly simple. All of the people coming are lesser nobility with in a rank or two of each other. The only question we need answer is how kind we are going to be to our brothers." Lothiriel replied with a slight smile.

"How kind we are going to be to our brothers?" Eowyn repeated, puzzled.

"Yes. You see, your brother is the real prize, but my brother, in all due modesty, also has royal blood and therefore will be much sought after too. We could be kind to them and seat them next to the fathers and brothers who are coming, or we could put them in a never-ending loop of different young ladies and watch the comedy unfold."

"That is a dilemma." Eowyn had a small smile on her face, which was becoming a more frequent sight.

"However, since we have more than two months left to decide, I would vote to wait and see how my brother behaves before I pronounce a decision one way or another."

"I believe that is a fair and just decision. We will let their conduct decide their fate." Eowyn agreed. Just then a slight breeze blew one of the lighter hanging tapestries across an open window. "It is time to close these windows," Eowyn decided. "The day's been fine so far, but there is rain expected later. We shouldn't press our luck."

Lothiriel nodded and began to close windows closest to her. Eowyn moved down the hall to close the ones farther off. When Lothiriel met up with her, Eowyn sat curled up close by an open window facing a door.

"I turned my back to the door." Eowyn explained in a soft voice. "I believe I can't quite do that yet."

"Oh." Comprehension dawned in Lothiriel's mind, and she quickly closed the window and sat down next to her friend.

Eowyn rested her head on her arms, which were wound up tight around her knees, as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Her body shook slightly, and Lothiriel cast her mind about for a way to help her friend.

"Count with me." Lothiriel demanded suddenly.

"What?" Eowyn asked in a small voice.

"Count with me to twenty, in Western." Lothiriel's tone brooked no disagreement. "One, two, three..." Eowyn joined in and when they reached twenty, before Eowyn had a chance to think, Lothiriel demanded "Now in Rohirric."

They counted to twenty again, this time Lothiriel stumbled over the words, which made a ghost of a smile appear on Eowyn's face.

"Do you know any other languages to count in?" She asked when they were done.

Eowyn obliged, counting in a new language that Lothiriel had never heard before.

"What language was that? I've never heard it spoken."

"That's the language of the Wild Men, and it's about all I know of it. I have no idea if I pronounced any of it correctly, as I've never had formal lessons. Those are all the languages I know," Eowyn added, anticipating the next question.

"Will you teach me the numbers in the language of the Wild Men?" Lothiriel asked, excited.

"Now?" Eowyn turned her head on her arms to look at her friend.

"Are you otherwise occupied?" Lothiriel wanted to know.

"No, I suppose not." Lothiriel's memory was good, but as with Rohirric, her pronunciation was terrible.

"Here's my exchange." Lothiriel said when they were done. "mîn." Eowyn repeated the word. "tâd." Eowyn repeated again, stumbling slightly on the accent. By the time they reached twenty, Eowyn's head was up off her arms and she was entirely focused on remembering and speaking the words correctly.

"What language was that?" Eowyn repeated Lothiriel's question. "It is new to me."

"It is one of the Elvish tongues, Sindarin. Faramir is well versed in it, if you wish to learn more of it later."

"I may, it has a beautiful flow to it." Eowyn replied, considering the words she had just learned.

"Truly it does, but I think the way Rohirric rolls is just as fine. I cannot wait for the day I speak it better."

"You are already much better than you were a week ago. You have a very fine ear for languages."

"My tutors would be so proud to hear you say so." Lothiriel joked, drawing a smile from Eowyn.

They paused for a moment in comfortable silence. "Are you ready to move on?" Lothiriel asked after a little while.

"More than you know." Eowyn replied seriously, though her small smile held. "I need to leave here. I cannot keep having moments like this." She gestured to the door as she rose.

"Two months." Lothiriel stated. "Just two months, less when you consider that we will leave here in a month and two weeks. You can survive until then."

"Yes, I can." Eowyn agreed and they started to walk away from the door. "It is much easier having you here, I think."

"I am glad to hear that. You may change your mind when you hear my list of demands."

"A new saddle and some riding skirts, I believe you said. Hardly steep demands for the Rohirrum to fulfill. In fact, if we are not planning the seating arrangements now we might go to the stables now and see what you prefer in a saddle."

"Any saddle that is not mine is preferable."

"But there are so many decisions you must consider! We could spend half a day discussing how high the cantle should rise in the back, and how to match the seat and the seat rise to that lift. Then you have to decide on what type of leather to use on each part of the seat." Eowyn then started to delve in great detail about the different types of stirrups.

Lothiriel could feel herself getting lost in all the details that her friend was listing. "Stop, stop!" She exclaimed after a minute of listening. "I confess you have lost me! I swear I grew up in a saddle and yet to hear you speak I feel as new to riding as any child. I had no comprehension of how much you put into your saddles, I am ready to be advised by you."

Eowyn laughed, and Lothiriel almost stumbled, she was so surprised to hear the rare sound. "This will be more exciting than I thought it would be. Come my friend, let's puzzle together your saddle."

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They spent two hours talking with the stable master for advice, and then another hour looking at different parts of saddles before they had a rough sketch of what Lothiriel wanted in hers.

"I will look like a queen sitting in this saddle." She exclaimed to Eowyn. "Which is just as well, as I will need all of the help possible in order to convince my stable master to allow me to use it when I return home."

"Next we will need to size you for riding skirts so you can use your saddle when it is made. But that we will probably have to save for another afternoon." Eowyn replied, glancing at the sinking sun.

"What are you saving for another afternoon?" A new voice asked from the door of the stable. They turned to see Eomer and Amrothos returning from an afternoon ride. Eomer had called to them as he dismounted.

"Riding skirts," Eowyn retorted. "Any interest brother?"

"On females I think them lovely. For myself personally, I would rather wear nothing than subject myself to them." Eomer cheekily replied.

"Now that's an image I don't need to be thinking of," Eowyn murmured to Lothiriel, who covered her laugh with her hand.

"What do you think brother, my lord?" Lothiriel showed her brother the sketch of her saddle, and belatedly remembered to include Eomer King in her statement.

The two men pored over the page, Eomer most intently.

"I believe it to be a fine looking saddle," Amrothos conceded, after a short time. "But I'll leave it to the King of Rohan to pass his professional opinion before I say more."

Eomer was looking between the saddle and Lothiriel, and she felt her cheeks redden slightly under his assessing gaze.

"I agree," Eomer finally stated. "It is a fine looking saddle, and it seems to be practical for your needs, Lady Lothiriel." He smiled at her. "At least, more practical than the one you use now."

Lothiriel had to remind herself that ladies of Gondor do not groan or cover their faces in embarrassment, the way she might if she were at home in Dol Amroth. Instead, she smiled her sweetest, and said, "When this one is made I intend to make sure that my old one is put out of its misery." She paused; if it were one of her brothers she conversed with she would add a joke at the end to return the embarrassment she felt. As it was, with the King of Rohan, she felt it was not appropriate to sport with him.

"Perhaps the King of Rohan would like to keep it, Lothiriel, as a final test of courage for his Riders. For surely they cannot be scared off anything else if they are brave enough to ride sidesaddle." Amrothos gave the jest for her, and they shared a quick smile at it.

"Have you ever - " Eomer began, but was cut of by Amrothos.

"Once. Only once." Amrothos stated sadly, and shook his head at Eomer's roar of laughter. "I lost a bet, and I still hold that riding on that saddle was one of the bravest things I have ever done. There is truly no easy way to balance and do anything else."

"That is because you are not supposed to do anything else while you are in the saddle," Lothiriel reminded him. "The point of the saddle is to show off your legs, and to prove to potential husbands that you can ride from your house to court with out having to use a carriage."

"True enough." Amrothos agreed. "My Lady Eowyn, on behalf of all my family let me thank you for giving Lothiriel a proper saddle. As it is a gift from Rohan, our riding master will not be able to refuse her using it, and now we will not have to worry about her falling off every time we go on a hunt."

"Ah, see, there's the real reason for your thanks. I knew that it was self centered." Lothiriel joked after Eowyn accepted his thanks and started leading them towards the Great Hall. "'So you don't have to worry about me falling off...'" Lothiriel quipped. "I'll remember that when I bring down the first game on our next hunt, brother dear."

"You hunt, Lady Lothiriel?" Eomer asked.

"I do, my lord." Lothiriel replied. "We have not been on a real hunt in... years. I forget how long. I was asked to be a member of court you see, and Lord Denethor had little time to organize frivolous events, even ones that had the chance of bringing in provisions for the city. But I enjoyed it when I was allowed to be home and participate."

"Are you any good?" Eomer asked.

"I am neither good or bad, my lord. I hit father targets more regularly than many, but closer targets I am probably the same as most."

"Your elf eyes are what allow you to hit the farther targets." Amrothos teased.

"Eowyn, do you know that my brother had the gall to mention that I have elf eyes in front of the sons of Elrond the Wise?"

Amrothos laughed. "The looks on their faces were priceless."

"And you promised, brother, that you would stop using the phrase as it is neither true or respectful." Lothiriel drove the point home. "I do not have 'elf eyes.' I see well far away. You might just as well say I have 'Dunedain eyes,' for all that it is just as accurate."

Amrothos held up his hands in surrender. "I yield." He promised, and then stepped up, not too close, to Eowyn and began to ask her questions about her horse and saddle. Lothiriel watched them with a small smile.

"My lady?" Eomer questioningly addressed her gaze.

"I beg pardon, my lord." She shook herself out of her thoughts with a gentle toss of her head. "I was thinking of how far my brother has come, since our childhood. I am very proud of him."

"Ah." Eomer replied, thoughtfully. "I was pleased to hear that he would join you in your visit. I fear that the last time you were here we were rather poor hosts."

"That is not in the slightest true. It might be accurate to say that you had other matters on your mind more pressing than showing the country side to visitors."

Eomer inclined his head to acknowledge the statement. Lothiriel took a moment and then dutifully tried to start the conversation again. "It is a beautiful day, though Eowyn told me it promised rain earlier this morning. How are your farmers managing?"

Eomer paused in their walk to the Great Hall, and Lothiriel politely stopped next to him. "My lord?" She asked as he searched her face.

"Lady Lothiriel, my sister and your brother have both assured me that you have a sparkling personality and a riveting wit, yet around me our conversations are extensively banal. Do you find me so dull to talk to that you must only speak of mundane occurrences?"

"My lord, I..." Lothiriel trailed off, unsure how to escape the situation gracefully.

"Or is it that you, Imrahil's Daughter, are too afraid to have an honest conversation with me?"

Lothiriel's face flushed. Such boldness was unheard of in Gondor. "We did not meet well, my lord." She finally answered honestly. "I truly did not think you would want to have me as a guest again, and I thought that it would be best if you did not feel obligated to talk to me, when there is no need to recognize me at all."

Eomer considered her words. "The first time I recall meeting you was in the Houses of Healing, and you brought my sister her morning meal."

Lothiriel couldn't hide the surprise from her face, and he paused to indicate she should speak. "Do all in Rohan have an eidetic memory, my lord?"

"No," Eomer's lips twisted into an ironic smile. "Imrahil pointed you out to me that night at the dinner, and Aragorn mentioned that we already met you at the Houses."

"That makes more sense." Lothiriel agreed, they turned and started to walk on. "The first time we exchanged words was what I referred to."

"Eowyn never told me." The reply was so soft and filled with such a self-loathing that Lothiriel almost forgave him.

"She should not have needed to." Lothiriel retorted, then flinched. She should not have spoken so boldly, but Eomer was nodding his head in agreement.

The ironic smile was back as he acknowledged her surprise. "The Rohirrum do not allow themselves to hide from the truth, no matter how painful the subject." He sighed. "I should have taken better care of her. I would give much to go back and change the past to make it so."

Lothiriel nodded. "She is much better now."

"Not because of me, but thanks to Faramir... and you." He smiled down at her, though the smile was sad. "Your letters were a high point of any week. I cannot thank you enough for traveling here to help her prepare."

"My lord is too kind." Lothiriel murmured.

"Might we declare a truce?" He asked her.

"My lord?"

"Your brother is my friend, my sister is yours. I think we might be able to talk about more than the weather, particularly as your brother has directed me to you for any further questions about the new arrow fletching."

Lothiriel laughed. "Your desire to befriend me is mercenary then!" She exclaimed. "You wish for my knowledge, not for friendship!"

Eomer smiled truly. "I wish for both. Truce? You will no longer worry that I hold it against you for speaking the truth?"

"Truce, my lord." She agreed, and held out her hand. Eomer looked at her strangely. "It's how they end agreements in Gondor. You shake hands." Eomer took her hand in his, and she moved their joint hands up and down while squeezing slightly, then let go. He looked at her in puzzlement. Interpreting the look she explained, "You have to squeeze slightly, or else you are judged as unmanly, or so my brothers tell me. What?" She couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Your brother has never told me anything of the sort."

Her forehead puckered in thought. "Probably because he thought you already knew. He meant no offense, I'm sure."

Eomer shook his head at her misunderstanding. "I am equally certain he meant no offense. I was just realizing that your friendship might be as useful to me as it is to my sister."

Lothiriel blushed at the compliment. "It will certainly be useful when you have horse buyers come and visit." Eomer nodded his agreement. "Do you..." she hesitated, and then continued slowly as if choosing her words with care. "Do you have enough horses to sell to us in Gondor?" Her words then flowed out in an anxious rush. "I know that King Elessar was insistent on allowing our nobles to purchase from you, and I know that it will be good for the economy both here and in Gondor, but Faramir told me that Boromir had written that you were hard hit by the early skirmishes, horses in particular..." She realized she was babbling, and stopped herself short. To her amazement, Eomer was smiling.

"You can talk about more than the weather then!" He exclaimed with a teasing note, causing Lothiriel to blush deeply. "While it is true that we do not have the horses to spare that we normally would, we certainly have enough to start trading this year, and open up paths for years to come. It won't be as fine of a selection to barter with, but given what I saw of the horses in Minas Tireth, it should start to improve the quality found there." He paused. "I did tell your father to come next year, as we have a few yearlings that would do well for him."

"I'd be interested in looking them over, if there is time." She amended, thinking of all she had promised to do.

Eomer raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you always look over horses for your father?"

"Not for my father, no, but for me." Lothiriel replied evenly, refusing to rise to his bait. "I have a… special line of horses that I care for. Mirime is but the newest in that line. It's almost time for her to foal, indeed I promised her to find a suitable mount when we return. But my father suggested that I look at the horses here, as I was already planning this visit, though I understand the bartering system is different."

"It is indeed. Perhaps in the next few days you might do me the honor of introducing me to your filly. I could make some suggestions based on what temperaments you're looking to foster."

Lothiriel stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Great Hall. Eomer turned when he realized that she was not beside him, and looked down at her. "You look shocked, Lady Lothiriel. What have I said now?"

Lothiriel scrambled to think of how to explain. "My lord, Eomer King, I… you are too generous with your time. I can think of no greater honor than having my horse looked over by the King of the Riders of Rohan, I am truly humbled by your generosity."

Eomer frowned slightly. It was just an offer to look at a horse, at least that was all he thought he offered. Perhaps it meant something different to her, he would have to ask Amrothos if it meant something else than a friendly gesture in Gondor. "It is nothing," he said eventually. "I would like to thank you for visiting Eowyn." He gestured, clearly desiring to go into the Hall and have his meal.

Lothiriel smiled up at him. "It's not 'nothing' to me. Thank you." She added, as she joined him and walked into the Great Hall together.

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Moving is tough, and I was really looking forward to finding a quiet spot with internet to post this next chapter, and here it is. The next chapter will certainly be up by July 1st, but I am to have it up much sooner than that.

If you have any questions, comments, concerts, etc., please let me know - I would love to hear from you!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien. I do not want any monetary compensation for this story.

Thank you to nika, BrightWatcher, coffeebookchiller, EugeniaVictoria, and Catspector for reviewing! I loved reading your comments.

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"Lady Lothiriel," Eomer King's voice was stern and cold. "Were you unaware that it is against our laws to go armed in Meduseld with out the permission of the King?"

"My lord?" Lothiriel asked, honestly confused. Then a look of comprehension dawned on her face and she looked down at the knife she had tucked into her boot that was now revealed by the slit riding skirts she wore. "Oh." She paused as she tried to frame her answer in a way the King would understand. _How to explain this habit_ … she wondered, and was about to answer when Amrothos cut in.

"Is that _the_ knife?" He asked, and when she nodded he turned to his friend. "Eomer, Lothiriel means no harm by this, I swear it. It has been fifteen years since I've seen her anywhere with out it. When she was a child I -"

"Amrothos!" Lothiriel exclaimed, dismayed that her brother would tell this story in front of so many people.

"Please continue," Eomer asked of Amrothos, ignoring the glare his sister gave him and the betrayed look on Lothiriel's face. "When she was a child…" he prompted when Amrothos hesitated.

Lothiriel put down the saddlebag she had been carrying. It looked like Eowyn and she would not get their ride this afternoon.

"You started this story brother, please continue." She said, her voice dangerously gentle.

"Our mother died when Lothiriel was five –"

"Four." Lothiriel corrected. "It was the day before my birthday."

"Four," Amrothos agreed, and went on. "A month or two prior the healer told father that mother had lost the ability to fight her disease. Lothiriel must have over heard some how, for later that afternoon father and Elphir found her trying to lift father's broadsword off its rack. 'What are you doing?' father asked her. 'Mother cannot fight her disease any more, so I will fight it for her,' was Lothiriel's reply."

Mercifully the others in the Great Hall did not laugh at this point, as so many of the Gondorian nobles who heard this story did. Lothiriel's color was flushed, but she held her head proudly.

"What happened then?" Eomer asked, when Amrothos paused in his story.

"I was sent to the healers." Lothiriel answered in a forced even voice. "I wound bandages and ran errands for two years before I was brave enough to ask how crushing herbs was the same as fighting an enemy. The healers by that point no longer treated me like glass and started to teach me how to apply what I was learning."

"And the knife?" Eomer prompted. Lothiriel nodded at Amrothos.

"Elphir gave it to her on her sixth birthday. 'So you'll have something more your size to fight with.' I think he said."

"Close enough," Lothiriel said with a small quirk of a smile.

"You can use a knife?" Eomer asked of Lothiriel. "Show us," he demanded when she nodded.

"My lord has just told me that to go armed is against the law in Meduseld. May I request that we move to the practice fields at least, since I do not know what drawing a weapon in this Hall will bring upon me?"

"That is fair. Shall we?" Eomer indicated with his hand, and Lothiriel turned to pick up the bag she put on the ground, only to find that Eowyn had been quicker. Eowyn was handing the bag Lothiriel packed, and the one she packed to a servant, who nodded and went in the direction of the stables.

"I will not give up hope of our afternoon ride yet," Eowyn whispered as she came up to Lothiriel's side. "I do not know why Eomer is pushing this. He must know that we all carry weapons hidden on our body, as would any sane person who lived through the last few years."

Lothiriel smiled at her friend as she felt a tightness in her chest loosen, relieved that her friend was not repulsed by her strange habit.

They walked to the practice courts in comfortable silence. A crowd had magically appeared around one court where a target was set up. Eowyn looked closely at her friend. "I could try to make them leave if you wanted." She stated.

"It will be alright." Lothiriel reassured her friend. "Thank you for the thought though."

"Are you that good?" Eowyn asked with a sly smile. Lothiriel returned the smile and stepped out into the court. Eomer and Amrothos stood by the target.

"My lord, what is the farthest a knife has been thrown in Rohan?" Lothiriel asked as she walked towards the target.

"We do not specialize in throwing knives, Lady Lothiriel, but it is probably about ten yards."

Lothiriel nodded and moved to stand approximately five yards from the target. She stretched a little bit then bent to remove her knife from her boot. She paused for a second to feel the earth beneath her boots and the light breeze in the air. Without warning her arm flew up and the knife struck the center of the target, faster than the eye could follow.

"Again." Lothiriel stated and walked a half a yard back. One of the servants ran to retrieve the knife from the target, and brought it to her. After she thanked him she threw with the same blurred motion and deadly accuracy. The process repeated. Lothriel backed up to six yards, then seven. At eight yards she started spinning as she threw, her motion as graceful as any dancer's twirl. The crowd was watching silently as at nine and a half yards threw the knife directly into the center of the target.

This time, when the servant returned her knife she did not throw, but waited for judgment from Eomer.

"At what distance do you start missing the target?" Eowyn had come up quietly to Lothiriel's side.

"After ten and a half yards I no longer hit it center every time. After twelve yards I no longer hit the target accurately. I have yet to make my knife reach it at thirteen yards – it simply falls short." Lothiriel replied softly.

"As soon as the crowd leaves, will you show me?"

Lothiriel nodded absently as Eomer had stopped discussing with his counselors and moved to the center of the training field.

"Our laws state that no guest is to go armed before the court of Meduseld. However, we judge that based on her skill at throwing, her sentimental attachment to the knife, and her professed loyalty to Gondor, and by extension to Rohan, that there is no harm in allowing the Lady Lothiriel this one small weapon."

Lothiriel curtseyed. "Thank you, my Lord" she said, truly grateful. "Thank you." When Lothiriel lifted her eyes to smile up at Eomer, she was surprised to see a puzzled look cross his face. The moment passed and Eomer beckoned his men to follow him away from the training yard. The crowd similarly dispersed their own ways, and with in a span of ten minutes, Eowyn and Lothiriel stood alone.

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Eomer thought of a question he wanted to ask Eowyn and so returned to the practice fields. There was the sound of a knife flying through the air and the slight _thump_ as it struck.

"See, even as I said Eowyn." Lothiriel's voice was light and seemed to float over the air. "At twelve yards I stop hitting the target accurately."

"But you were not far off. Look, but a hand length away from the middle circle."

"Far enough to mean the difference between life and death. Not close enough, I still have much to learn."

Eomer turned the corner to see Lothiriel and Eowyn were standing by the target. Lothiriel pulled her knife from the target, and then laughed a little. "Look, Eowyn, this is how close I used to stand to the target." She took a small step away.

Eowyn laughed in response. "How old were you?"

"Six. The training master told me that he had no time to train little princesses, but he set up a target as high as he did for the other young lads and told me to stand as close as I need to so I could not miss the target. 'Stand where you can hit the circle every time, and throw the knife thirty times into the middle circle. Then step back one step. Hit the circle thirty times, and move back a step again.'" Lothiriel looked at the target, but seemed to be seeing a different one.

"Did you do as he said?" Eowyn asked.

"Oh yes." Lothiriel shook her head as if shaking off a memory. "Every day I went down to the training field and threw until my arms shook. Then I went to the healers. Then I went to my lessons. And then I went back to the practice fields and threw in the dying light. I was a rather serious child."

"So were all children born in this time."

"Not _all_ children." Lothiriel smiled. "You will meet some who led rather different lives than we, they are among those coming to your engagement party."

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading so far. I cannot wait until I've stopped moving and have consistent places to update and respond to reviews. This is a short chapter, but it ties up the loose plot points before the good stuff happens.

I will be back at the first of next month at the latest.

As always; questions, thoughts, and comments are more than welcome. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry about the delay - please read below if you want the details. As always, I am not J. R. R. Tolkien and I do not want any profit from this story.

Thank you to kfirey, Christmas 95, and pianogirl for their reviews! You guys made my day!

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They were riding the way back from one of the hamlets when the message came. A house had caught fire and the village requested aid. Lothiriel and Eowyn waited while Eothain circled up his escort and sent all but himself and another guard to assist with relief.

"Do they need an additional healer?" Lothiriel asked the messenger before the riders left.

"They have enough people on hand. Fortunately no one was in the house at the time." Eothain answered, having translated the question and retranslated the answer.

Lothiriel, despite herself, was relieved. Burns were nasty wounds to heal, and she felt that she had seen more than her fair share after the First Circle was lit ablaze.

Once the riders were off, the small party of four continued the way back to Edoras.

As they rode, Lothiriel found herself almost stuck in a never ending loop of the siege of Gondor – the smells of burning flesh, the screams of the dying, the pounding of the orc armies that seemed to echo even into the once peaceful gardens… She was so distracted that her company slowing and then stopping didn't register at first. As they halted, she noticed that there was an accident on the road in front of them.

The carts were wrecked together, and in such a state that Lothiriel's first instinct was to dismount and find who was injured. Eowyn's iron grip kept her in the saddle, as Eothain brought his horse a pace forward.

" _What happened here?"_ He asked in Rohirric. When neither man answered, Eothain's scowl grew, and he repeated his query in Western.

"Go on," sneered the first man. "You're the one that wanted to do the talking."

The second man made no answer, but instead looked from face to face.

"Where do you come from?" Eothain asked, but still received no answer.

"I know that accent, man of Umbar." Lothiriel stated coldly, unable to keep quiet. "Little love did I have for it when I was waiting for the Corsairs to sail up to Gondor. I love it less here in Rohan. State your business, as requested."

The second man smiled evilly at her words. "You are indeed the Princess of Dol Amroth. No other has her style of arrogance, or so I'm told."

Lothiriel's brows shot up her forehead.

"It is ill manners to speak with a guest before declaring oneself to her host. Who are you, and what would you?" Eothain challenged.

"It's quite simple, horse-man. We are poor sailors, and wish to rebuild our fleet. Neigh on two weeks ago we came to a crossing point on the Anduin, and heard rumors of the Princess of Dol Amroth traveling in Gondor with only a small guard to protect her."

"And you thought to try your strength against the Horselords of Rohan?"

"Haven't seen any Horselords yet," the first man sneered. "Poor men with even poorer spoils for the taking. No money here."

"And yet here you are." Lothiriel intercepted, hoping to keep from bloodshed. "Sir, what do you want from me?"

"Your dowry."

"My dowry? How do you – you would have to marry me" Lothiriel stammered, her mind searching for a way to make his statement sensible.

"Lady Lothiriel," Eowyn's voice drifted softly by her shoulder, and Lothiriel turned her head, almost nose to nose with Eowyn. Lothiriel raised her eyebrows, and Eowyn almost imperceptibly shook her head.

"You seem to have wasted your time in coming." Eothain's voice was deadly calm. "Throw down your arms now and we will consider letting you live, otherwise you do not have the numbers of men to try anything by force."

"Is that so?" The second man asked, and at a whistle from the first another ten men appeared from the carts behind them. "Do you care to reconsider?"

"Lady Lothiriel, stay back please." Eothain asked, and at his nod the second rider blew a loud horn call that seemed to reverberate through the hills. "You have but a few minutes now before you're hopelessly out numbered." Eothain informed the men, almost pleasantly. "I suggest you make them count." With that he drew his sword and nudged his horse forward, the second rider and Eowyn at his heels.

Lothiriel watched as they were able to take the men by surprise, and two were struck down before they could even draw their own weapons. However, they seemed to be able to use this as a rallying cry, and the Rohirrum were quickly surrounded. Unable to stay away, Lothiriel saw her opening and nudged Mirime in to a canter, knocking down one of the men who tried to attack Eowyn from behind. She kept Mirime's momentum and rode around the wagons and knocked a second man down on her return trip. The third time around the wagons it seemed one of the men was waiting for her, and before she could register what had happened something caught her by the shoulder and dragged her down.

Almost blind with pain, Lothiriel saw a rope was wrapped around her now despondent left arm. _Broken? Dislodged?_ Thoughts seemed to scatter like lightning bugs in the fog of her pain. Two things suddenly became clear, however. First was that Eothain was fighting for his life trying to get to her, as the force the men was concentrated on him, and Eowyn and the other rider had been drawn slightly further away. The second was that the man who held the other end of the rope was one of the men she had knocked down. He was severely injured from his fall, but that didn't stop him from being able to crawl towards her, knife in hand.

Eothain had struck down two of the five men surrounding him, and his horse had taken care of a third. The two remaining men were on either side of him, and Eothain was doing his best to deflect blows away from him and his horse, but was only slightly successful. Blood gushed from many wounds on his legs and thighs. Lothiriel watched as the men backed him into a corner, pinned by the wagons. One focused his attack on Eothain and the other began to move around behind on the wagons. A sharp tug on the rope sent stars of pain into Lothiriel's vision. The man was now less than ten feet away.

Not allowing herself to think about what he would do when he got to her, Lothiriel drew her dagger from the boot. Putting one bracing foot on the rope, she cut herself free from the man's hold, and threw the dagger in one swift motion. It whistled through the air and hit with a sickening thud in the man on the wagon's stomach. The man fell with a groan, but Lothiriel didn't see what happened next as there was a sharp tug on the shortened rope, almost causing her to vomit in pain.

"How dare you." The man hissed, as he threw her to the ground and raised his knife. "It'll be had to scorn us when you're dead, won't it be?"

But before he could strike something large collided with him, and blood splattered on her face and body. She heard a shriek of pain from man and horse, and then the decisive sound of bones snapping.

Slowly she got up, using her good arm to steady herself. The man with the knife lay dead, and Mirime was staggering near him, a horrible looking slash down her side.

"No!" Lothiriel screamed, and it was as if her cry had summoned others of the Rohirrum from the ground. They surrounded the other men on foot, killing all with swift efficiency. Lothiriel barely spared them a glance as she carefully walked over to her skittish horse. "Miri," She said softly. "Mistress Miri, it will be fine. You will be fine." Slowly she got close enough to catch the harness. The cut was bleeding freely. Assistant healer though she was, Lothiriel had no experience with horse injuries. "You will be fine." She repeated, and looked around for help.

Eowyn was with a large group surrounding where Lothiriel had last seen Eothain. A rider was explaining something very intently to Eowyn, he kept pointing to the wagons where the man Lothiriel had killed went down. Eowyn nodded gravely, and turned to Lothiriel with the strangest look in her eyes.

"Eowyn!" Lothiriel called, and Eowyn came with a few of the other riders. "I don't know what to do." Lothiriel could feel tears streaming down her face, but couldn't bring herself to care to wipe them away. "I don't know how to help her." She reluctantly let go of the reins as the riders gently convinced the shaking Mirime to lie down. "She saved my life." It seemed crucial to try to explain this. "She saved me. She has to be alright. She'll be alright, won't she Eowyn?"

Eowyn was looking intently at the horse. "It is hard for me to say, I do not have the knowledge." She replied honestly. "They will see that she is brought to our stable master, and if anyone can heal her…" Eowyn let her sentence fade away uncompleted. "She was amazing. Where did she learn to attack like a warhorse?"

Lothiriel shook her head, tears springing afresh as her horse cried in pain again.

"What happened to your arm?" Eowyn asked, drawing Lothiriel's focus again.

"My arm?" Lothiriel looked down. Her whole body was covered with Mirime's blood, but her left arm was stiff at an abnormal angle. The rope around her wrist was lined with red welts, and developing bruises. "I think some one threw a rope at me…" Lothiriel tried to piece it all together, swallowing back yet another wave of nausea. "Eothain?" She asked.

"Alive," was Eowyn's answer. "You saved his life with your throw."

Lothiriel shook her head, not taking her eyes away from her horse. "Can I stay with her? Will they move her?" She was crying again.

"You need your own attention." Eowyn said firmly. "She will be in the best of hands."

Eowyn guided Lothiriel away from her horse, and Lothiriel followed, almost in a daze. Strong hands lifted her up onto another horse, and Lothiriel bit back a cry of pain as her arm jerked forward and back. Eowyn mounted behind Lothiriel and with a strong guard they rode back to Edoras.

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Lothiriel tasted blood, as the healer snapped her shoulder back into place. Eowyn had left her side to fetch Amrothos, and while she was gone Lothiriel told the healer to bring her shoulder to rights, and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.

By the time her brother and Eowyn had returned the healer was binding the arm flat against her body to protect it from being jarred about.

"I'm not sorry." Lothiriel snapped, in too much pain to care what her brother thought. "I'm not. I'd do it again in a heart beat," she continued to challenge, though her brother had yet to say a word.

"I am so relieved you are alright." Amrothos surprised Lothiriel with a gentle hug. "Eowyn told me you were injured, but was unclear as to what specifically was wrong."

The healer moved back in and washed Lothiriel's wrist with liquid that made her hiss in pain. He said something to Eowyn in Rohirric, but too quickly for Lothiriel or Amrothos to catch and then began to gently bind her wrist.

"The healer says your cut is clean with no poisons. It will smart for some time, but you should be able to use your wrist." She translated, and then asked him something in Rohirric. After receiving her answer, she added "Your shoulder was dislocated and it will take some time to heal, however your arm should be good after awhile."

"Little bird, what happened?" Amrothos asked as the healer left.

Lothiriel shook her head and began to stand, when the doors opened again to reveal Eomer, white faced.

"Eothain?" Eowyn asked quickly.

"It is bad." Eomer replied honestly, "But he will get through it. Lady Lothiriel, are you – "

"I am fine," she snapped, moving to stand again. "I am going to see my horse."

"Mirime?" Amrothos asked, startled. "Lothi – what happened?"

Lothiriel bit back tears as she jerked her shoulder wrong. "She saved me. She saved my life, and if she dies it will all be my fault. Vanya is too old to bear foals and I will have lost everything."

"That's not true," Amrothos crouched in front of Lothiriel, and gently grabbed her face to force her to pay attention. "You still have Calanon and Alyan. You can still continue the line. But what makes you think that Miri is so gravely injured?"

"I saw bone," Lothiriel's face was white as death. "I saw her ribs. She protected me, and this is the thanks I give her." With her good hand, Lothiriel absently wiped at the tears that retraced paths down her cheeks.

Amrothos helped his sister sit, and perched at the end of the bed. "What happened," he asked again. This time he directed his question towards Eowyn, and the room was silent as she told her tale.

Lothiriel broke the stillness first, looking directly at Eomer. "Where must I go, Eomer King, to find my horse?"

"The stable master will find you when he has news, good or ill." Eomer replied gravely.

"I cannot sit with her then? She will be scared with strangers, and" Lothiriel took a deep breath and continued in a steadier voice. "I wish to be there if… if the worst…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"Perhaps we might sit in the Great Hall and wait," Eowyn suggested. "That way the stable master will find you all the quicker."

Lothiriel got to her feet with a small hiss as she wrenched her shoulder. "They didn't give you something to numb the pain?" Amrothos asked furious.

"The healer tried." Lothiriel admitted. "I will have none of it, nothing that will dull my senses or make me sleep until I know…" She once again stopped herself and took Eowyn's hand.

"Let's wait in the Great Hall." Eowyn suggested in the silence that fell. "Eomer, will you join us, or are you needed by Eothain?"

Eomer shook his head. He had been staring at Lothiriel as though she were a puzzle he was trying to work out. "Eothain's family is by him. His wife and daughter. I would only be a nuisance."

"Then sit in the hall and join us. The healers will know where to find you if something changes."

Eomer nodded in agreement, and they left the small room together.

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A/N: Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always; questions, comments, or reviews are always appreciated.

I am so sorry that this was so late in coming. Between moving this summer, my brother got married, and so for the past 15 days I have been preparing for his wedding, driving to his wedding, driving people around his wedding, and then driving back from his wedding. I do apologize, though, and can hopefully promise that this won't happen again.

See you September 1st!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien, I do not wish to profit from this story.

Thank you to coffeebookchiller, anthi95, kfirey and Christmas 95 for reviewing.

And kfirey and Christmas 95- thank you for being concerned about Lothiriel's horse! I wanted to get this up earlier for you guys.

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An hour of waiting did little good for Lothiriel. Her color was all but drained and it hurt to move any part of her body. Eowyn had helped her to lie down on her good side, with her head resting on a pile of furs in Eowyn's lap. Amrothos was a silent sentinel watching his sister a step or two away, and Eomer paced in restless energy.

"It wouldn't make you sleep," Eowyn had suggested a small cup of mead to help numb the pain, but Lothiriel shook her head and winced.

"No. I will wait. The pain will pass, but I will never forgive myself if I am…out of sorts and Miri needs me."

"A game then." Amrothos suggested and came close to sit at Lothiriel's back. "A game to take your mind off the pain and wait out the time."

"I am in no mood brother." Lothiriel said, her voice betraying her exhaustion.

"I am offering you a choice. You are in pain and so you will either take medicine or do something to take your mind off the hurt."

"Categories." Lothiriel stated.

"Done. First category shall be birds." Amrothos replied. "Sparrow."

"Lark," Lothiriel answered almost before he finished the word.

"Thrush."

"Swan."

"Falcon," Eowyn interrupted their patter.

"Eagle," Eomer had stopped pacing and came to sit by them.

"Swallow," Lothiriel continued, and the game went on until Amrothos said, "swan" again.

"I already said that one." Lothiriel teased, taking even shallow breaths.

"So you did. I was only seeing if you were paying attention."

"Of course you were," Lothiriel replied. "What is our next category?"

"Songs?" Amrothos suggested.

"Done. 'The Lady in Gold.'"

They continued, Eomer and Eowyn adding in songs in Rohirric as well as in Western.

"'The Sailor and his Lady.'" Lothiriel threw in with a sly smile.

"No," Amrothos stated. "You do not know that song."

" _There once was a sailor, who sailed the wild sea, 'til he came to a shore –"_ Lothiriel was abruptly cut off by Amrothos.

"No. No, no, no." He put his head in his hands. "Father is going to kill me."

"Or Elphir." Lothiriel pointed out, as the front door creaked open. "One of the two of you at least."

"Can you sit up?" Eowyn asked Lothiriel. "The stable master is here."

Lothiriel jerked upwards with a hiss of pain and was caught by Eowyn's and Amrothos's steadying hands. With their help she was able to get to her feet as the stable master and one of his assistants walked towards them.

After bowing to Eomer, the stable master looked at Lothiriel and started speaking in hurried Rohirric. "He says that your horse was badly hurt." Eowyn translated. "But as long as infection doesn't set in, she – " Eowyn paused and listened as he explained something in great detail. "As long as infection doesn't set in, and as long as she doesn't re-tear her injury once it's healed, she should make a full recovery."

Lothiriel blinked, as the words spun in her head. "A full recovery." She breathed. "How is that possible?"

Eowyn asked and then translated back. "He says she was lucky that she wasn't cut more deeply or to one side or another. It was a" she paused again as he restated some of his words. "It was a difficult injury to heal, but not beyond his ability."

"Thank you." Lothiriel whispered. " _Thank you_ " she repeated in Rohirric. " _Thank you, thank you, thank you."_ And on an impulse she grabbed his hand and kissed it, and then bowed as low as she could over it. A gentle hand patted her head briefly and then was removed, and a yellow square of fabric was put into Lothiriel's line of vision. " _Thank you_ " she murmured again, as she took the stable master's offered cloth and wiped the tears that were falling onto his hand.

"Can I see her now?" Lothiriel asked, looking to Eowyn to translate.

Eowyn obediently asked, and replied, "He says that you may, but perhaps shouldn't stay too long as you are obviously injured too."

Lothiriel nodded in agreement, and followed the stable master down out. She half observed through what felt like a fog of pain, relief, and hope that her brother, Eowyn and Eomer King trailed along as well. They were led to a stable that was different than the one her horse was housed in before, and she turned to ask Eowyn, but the stable master interpreted the look and answered before she queried.

"He says that he oversees the horses in this stable personally, and so it made sense to house your horse here." Eowyn stated, something like laughter in her voice. "He also says that since she acted queenly in your defense, it was only right to house her where the noble horses are."

Lothiriel nodded, absorbing this information to think through later as she was already entirely focused on the one truly familiar horse out of all the finer ones housed along side.

Mirime was lying on her side with her eyes closed, and Lothiriel gave a low whistle to announce her presence, before venturing closer. She knelt down at her horse's side, and ran a shaking hand through her forelock all the way down to where white bandages covered most of her stomach.

"The stable master says that she's a fine filly." Eowyn's voice broke through Lothiriel's thoughts. "And he asks what makes her so precious to you."

"My mother rode her great-great dam." Lothiriel replied, moving her hand steadily from head to flank in a soothing gesture. "I remember very little of my mother, but I remember her ridding. After my mother died, perhaps a year after, we lost her horse in a difficult foaling, but the foal survived. I was allowed to feed it and then my father gave the foal to me on my next birthday. My only surviving link to my mother is her line of horses."

"Lothiriel is particularly fussy when it comes to continuing the line. She is pickier about which stallion mounts her fillies than most ladies of her age are about hair or dress styles." Amrothos added trying to tease.

"Hair and dress change from season to season," Lothiriel pointed out, moving to sit more comfortably. "This is the only gift from my mother that will endure, this is the only legacy I will have to give to my daughter."

"The stable master says that you should bring her back in a season or two," Eowyn paused and restated, "He actually demands for you to bring her back so that he can help you find a suitable mount."

Lothiriel froze, and looked over quickly, ignoring the stab of pain that shot down her left side. "If it is with in my power to return, it would be an honor to have your council." She replied gravely. The stable master bowed slightly at her words once they were translated and went off to observe the grooming of horses down by the entrance.

Amrothos came and crouched by Lothiriel's side. "Little bird, will you please now take some relief for yourself? Anything? It hurts me to see you in pain."

"I've never understood why you and Erchirion are allowed to call me little, I am two years your senior and one year his." Lothiriel responded glibly.

"It's a privilege of being tall." Amrothos said in the same style. "But please, if not for your sake than for mine. Father will probably already have my hide for letting you get hurt, there is no need to worsen the punishment I am going to receive by being stoic."

Lothiriel sighed, "The things I do for you." She leaned in and whispered something into her horse's ear and then with a final gentle pat, she allowed her brother to help her up.

As they left the stables, the stable master called out to them. Eomer said "He wishes you to know, Lady Lothiriel, that you are welcome at any time, day or night, to see your horse."

" _Thank you,_ " Lothiriel turned to face the stable master and bowed as low as she could with her injury.

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A/N: This section probably should have been with the last chapter, as it fits in with it more than with the next bit. As such, I have posted it earlier than September 1st. I will be posting the next chapter then.

As always, questions, comments, or other reviews are always welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien. I do not want money for this story.

Thank you to kfirey, adanethel, Christmas 95, and Elmarie for your reviews! I really love reading your thoughts.

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It was one of the times when Eomer almost hated the fact that he had survived. After waking from a dream where first his mother and father, and then Eowyn, and then Lothiriel of all people were cut down before him while he was helpless, Eomer realized that he was not going to sleep again that night.

Instead of rolling over and over in his bed, he decided to visit Firefoot down in the stables. He shook himself off as he dressed, still restless and upset by the day – that a group of bandits would dare venture so near his hold bothered him. He refused to let his mind travel further down that path – Eothain was living thanks to the Lady Lothiriel. Eomer had no idea how he would tell her father about this upsetting event, at least Amrothos had not taken insult that his sister was almost abducted within a few leagues of Edoras.

Eomer splashed his face with water before he left his room, grabbing a cloak as he went. It did no good to worry about Imrahil's reaction. He would both believe Eomer and accept his apology, or he wouldn't. Imrahil could not put Eomer through a harsher berating than the one he had been giving himself all day.

With a nod to the guards on duty, Eomer pulled open the stable door, and was surprised to see a small light lit near the end of the stalls. Stepping inside the stable, he quietly closed the door, and crept towards the light.

"…Now Mistress Miri, it will not be so bad. The stable master said that we would only have to wait this one season, and then next year we could foal you. I know, I promised this year, but if you listened to me and believed me when I told you that you are not battle trained, maybe we would not be in this position. There is no need to look at me like that, nor is there any need to huff. You'll wake the other horses, and we don't want that."

Eomer reached the stall the light was issuing from, and smiled at the scene there. Lothiriel sat with her horse's head on her lap and a blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders. Clearly her horse was still in some pain, and had wakened in confusion.

"Shh, hush," Lothiriel soothed as Mirime made a half-hearted snort. "I know it must hurt now, but it will soon be healed. Just think – in but two months from now we may be riding by the sea again. It will take some time before we can gallop along the waves, but at least we'll be by the water. I wish I could give you my memories of the waves crashing, and the gulls screaming at us, but maybe you have your own." Lothiriel's tone was calm and gentle, and her hand rhythmically combed through the mane that was in her reach. She sighed and leaned her head back against the stable wall, with a slight grimace of pain. Taking her hand off the mane, she readjusted her shoulder strap, and then went back to stroking. When Mirime was calm, Lothiriel let her hand rest.

"Shall we continue our game?" Lothiriel asked, but clearly did not expect an answer as she continued. "You were just dealt, and decided to play "not seeing, I have seen." You raise the stakes to two rocks."

Eomer moved closer to see that by the lantern was a small pile of rocks and a pile of cards. Five were placed face down in front of Mirime's nose and another pile of five Lothiriel picked up. "Hmm." She thought out loud. "You may have made a poor choice my dear. "I have seen." I put in all my rocks. Let's see who wins." She placed her cards down face up, and then flipped over the cards in front of her horse's nose. Glancing at the two piles she laughed, and then put her good hand over her mouth to smother the sound. "I have lost." She told her horse. "Three of the Kings and two Suns? Has Amrothos been teaching you tricks?" She asked her horse, gathering up the cards.

Suddenly she looked up. "My lord Eomer." She exclaimed, and started to move as if to stand up.

"Please stay where you are." Eomer requested quickly, and her movement settled. "It is late Lady Lothiriel. Why are you still awake?"

"I couldn't sleep because of my shoulder." Lothiriel explained. "I thought to come here where I could sit up and watch over Mirime – your stable master did give me permission. He thought that some familiar smells might help her relax."

Lothiriel waited for Eomer to speak again, and after a moment when he did not she asked, "Was there something you required? Or Eowyn needed?"

"No, no." Eomer shook his head. "I was also unable to sleep and thought to come sit with Firefoot."

"Oh." Lothiriel said, and neatened the pile of cards. "Would you rather I go so you can be alone?" She asked after another minute of silence.

"What game were you playing?" Eomer asked, unsure how to respond. He wanted time alone for reflection, but he couldn't ask her to leave her horse.

To his surprise, Lothiriel blushed. "It's… well… it's a card game I'm not supposed to know." She looked up at him, "Come in and sit if you like, I'll show you. I'm told this game corrupts young ladies, but I'm not sure what it will do to the King of Rohan." She added with a smile.

Eomer gently opened the door and quietly came in. As he sat, Lothiriel put the deck of cards in her injured hand, and used the good one to flip cards over.

"Amrothos gave me this deck of cards when I was very little. It comes from the Haradrim – we traded with them when I was young I seem to recall, though we haven't in many years. Each card has picture on it." She flipped over a card showing a red background and a woman dancing. "That is the least important card. The more important ones are the knight, the queen, the king, and the sun." She showed him those cards. "The person who holds the deck mixes the cards together, and then places five before each player. You can look at your cards or not. If you look at your cards you're looking for pairs or sets of three. The stronger the person will mean you have a better chance of winning."

Eomer nodded, it seemed fairly straightforward. "What are the rocks for?" He asked.

Lothiriel smiled. "Normally Mirime and I bet a number of carrots, or lumps of sugar, but I don't want to feed her anything extra while she's this injured and risk her stomach. Normally people would bet money or something valuable." She looked at Eomer and then divided the rock pile in half. "Here, this is much easier to understand when you play."

She then picked up the cards she showed him and carefully mixed them in with the rest. Then she gingerly gave him one card, and put another down in front of herself. Eomer bent to pick up the card, but was stopped when she cried, "Wait! It's bad luck to pick up the cards one at a time. Wait until you have all five."

Eomer obediently waited, and then picked up all five cards at the same time as Lothiriel. He organized his matches, one pair of knights, one pair of queens, and a dancer, and then looked to Lothiriel for further instruction. "You decide whether or not to play." She prompted.

"I'll play" he said, unsure of what to do.

"You say "I have seen" and then based on how strong your hand is you place in a number of rocks."

"I have seen." Eomer repeated, and put one of his rocks on the ground between the two of them.

"I have seen." Lothiriel stated, and put in one of her rocks next to his. "Now we reveal our cards." She lay hers on the ground, and he copied her. She had a pair of Kings but nothing else. "You have won – your two pairs beat my one pair, so the two rocks are yours."

Eomer took the two rocks to add to his pile, and Lothiriel collected the cards. She hesitated, unsure if Eomer wanted to continue the game.

"What happens next?" Eomer asked.

"We play until all the rocks belong to one person, or until some one gets tired of the game. Normally there are more players, which makes the game more interesting, or so I'm told."

"Have you ever played against anyone else?" Eomer asked gesturing for her to play again.

"It's your turn to pass the cards out, my lord. If you wish." Lothiriel smiled and handed him the stack of cards. "Mix them together well first, and then hand them out one at a time." She instructed leaning back. "I have never played again anyone, save Amrothos. My brothers and I passed each other as strangers when I was child, and then I was invited to court and so didn't see them more than once a year. Amrothos and I are closer in temperament, and were fonder of each other because of it. He would visit when he could, but not more than three times a year at best." She sighed and leaned forward again. "The cards are mixed, my lord, if you would pass them out."

Eomer obeyed, and included Mirime in his circle. "You said that the more players the better the game." He explained, answering her silent question. "I would include Firefoot, but I do not think he would bare losing to a filly well."

Lothiriel laughed. She had forgotten that amongst the Rohirrum it would seem normal to include a horse in a game. "Mirime goes first, being on your right." She explained, dividing her rock pile in half and pushing the pile by Mirime's nose. "She always plays "Not having seen, I have seen."" And Lothiriel placed one of Mirime's rocks in the group space. "That means that she doesn't look at her cards, but she still wants to play. "I have seen."" Lothiriel said and then added one of her rocks to the pile.

"I have seen." Eomer put one rock in. They laid their cards down and Lothiriel flipped over Mirime's.

"It appears I win this round, my lord." Lothiriel took the rocks. "It would be Mirime's turn to mix the cards, but I normally do that for her."

"Allow me." Eomer picked up the cards. "Is your arm in much pain?"

"It could be worse." Lothiriel diplomatically replied as he mixed the cards. "At least here there is no one to fuss over me, to insist I stay in bed for days as I heal."

"Do you need to stay in bed while you heal?" Eomer asked and passed out the cards.

"Bright Heavens no!" exclaimed Lothiriel. "There is work to be done still. Eowyn still needs assistance packing, especially as we are leaving next week." Eomer looked skeptical. "Truly, women are able to work through pain just the same as you men. I have not died, I was not seriously injured."

"You said you weren't able to sleep." Eomer pointed out.

"As did you. Do you need to stay in bed for the next few days?" Lothiriel asked shrewdly.

Eomer raised his hands in defeat. He won the next round and passed the cards to Lothiriel. They played the next two rounds in a comfortable silence.

Eomer at last broke it, pointing out how quiet Lothiriel had become.

"As have you, my lord." She retorted, with a smile.

"Eomer." He said.

"My lord?" She asked as he passed the cards out.

"Eomer, please call me Eomer. Your brother does, and you have taught me a gambling game from the Haradrim, I believe it is appropriate."

"Lothiriel, then." She smiled. "Though it would be best if we did not address each other so informally in Gondor – it would not be proper."

Eomer groaned. "Why do your people have so many rules for everything? How can you breathe in such a society?"

"With very quick shallow breaths." Lothiriel pertly replied. "And name one rule that we have in Gondor that you do not have similarly here, my l- Eomer."

"Where to start?" Eomer exclaimed. "What about how have insufferable levels of address for everyone?"

"How is that different from here?" Lothiriel laughed. "Would my lord Eothain be offended if I called him a captain instead of a marshal? Of course he would. It is not so different."

"But we can address each other by given names here, not by titles."

"Still, your captains and marshals, and people in general refer to you as 'my Lord-King' at least, even if they do include your name at the end of it." Eomer considered this. "My lord?" Lothiriel asked after he had been silent for some time. "Eomer?"

"I had not realized that people address me as such. I am used to being the Third Marshal, and being 'my lord'-ed that I hadn't realized that they call me King all the time now." He looked truly surprised at this realization.

"But, that is what you are. You are the King. Why shouldn't they address you with your proper titles?"

Eomer shook his head. "I was never supposed to be King. I never wanted it, not ever. Theodred would take the crown and marry. His sons would rule, and I would guard the East Mark, or the West."

"I am sorry for your cousin." Lothiriel said simply.

"Sorry doesn't bring him back." Eomer sharply replied.

"No." Lothiriel agreed sadly. "Sorry never brings any good."

They were silent again. "Your cousin, and your uncle." Lothiriel murmured. Eomer flinched slightly. "They died well at least," Lothiriel pointed out. "My cousin had honor in his death, I am told, but not my uncle."

"Your cousin, and your uncle." Eomer recalled, startled that he never connected this woman with Denethor or Boromir.

Lothiriel looked down. "I find it… difficult to mourn for my uncle." She picked her words carefully. "But I feel as though some part of me keeps waiting for Boromir to return. He was… my world when I was at court. I lived for the weeks he was home, he was big brother, teacher, and friend all in one."

"Not Faramir?"

"Faramir was – is my brother, more than my cousin. But he and I were too much of an age for him to inspire the same awe that Boromir does – did."

Lothiriel's gaze was fixed on a small piece of her horse's mane, and she reached out to straighten it. There was nothing in her tone or body language that suggested he fill the silence by talking about Theodred, and yet, he felt the challenge hang in the air before him.

"Theodred…" he began, and was surprised at the emotion that welled up in him as he spoke the name. He cleared his throat and tried to continue. "Theodred was much the same for me. When I moved – when we moved to Edoras he was the one who looked out for me. He was the best brother I could have ever asked for." It was his turn to look down at Mirime, and to gently stroke her forelock.

"I can't imagine losing all my brothers – losing Boromir was bad enough."

Eomer nodded, unable to say any thing else with out losing his composure.

"Boromir met Theodred a few times before the fighting on our border was too intense for him to be anywhere else." Lothiriel spoke carefully. "He told me I would like the 'big man in Rohan.'"

Eomer was startled into a half laugh. "Theodred _hated_ that name. Passionately." He met Lothiriel's eyes, and drank in her small smile. "He would say 'it is bad enough that I'm the easiest target, with out people making it into my war name.'"

Lothiriel gave a small chuckle. "I confess it made me imagine him eight feet tall, wild, and eating an entire sheep for breakfast."

"Perhaps not an entire sheep." Eomer responded gravely, causing Lothiriel to genuinely laugh.

"He really was eight feet tall then?"

"He was more of your Boromir's height, I seem to recall. Perhaps a half a hand taller."

"That is disappointing. Was he at least wild?"

"I have never heard that word applied to my cousin before." Eomer replied slowly, thinking it over. "I suppose he could be, on the battlefield. Orcs, wildmen, bandits, all stayed away while he was here, even when Theoden King started failing. But, he was more than the battle."

She heard the bitterness in his voice. "You are not responsible for what happened today."

Eomer shook his head. "Theodred would have kept you safe."

"We cannot know that. Theodred never had to face a world without the Dark Lord or Saruman, a world where small evil powers wander with out purpose."

"Eothain said they had a purpose." Eomer watched her shrewdly, as Lothiriel's face flushed.

"The tragic part is that when I tell my friends how my first proposal happened, I will have to include that the prospect of spending a life with out me is enough to drive men to madness."

Eomer laughed at her arch tone, she sounded every bit the dejected lady.

"You may laugh now, but I warn you, it is most provoking for a young woman to find out that she must either marry or risk massive bloodshed." She added with a smile.

"How shall you manage it?" He was unable to stay on the serious topic of her wellbeing when she was smiling and laughing with him.

"I shall run away to Rohan, of course. Once Mirime is well enough to travel." She gave her horse a small pat.

"You should speak to the King of Rohan before you do so. It is unwise to trespass upon his lands unasked."

"Oh, I shall not bother anyone so important as the King!" Lothiriel exclaimed, playfully. "I shall live in a small hut on the edge of one of the hamlets, and no one will notice me."

Eomer tried to imagine a circumstance where Lothiriel would be unnoticeable, but was unable to. "You will need to earn a living then. Even a small hut will take money to keep up."

"Hmm." Lothiriel thought. "I suppose the hamlet would have a healer I could apprentice myself to, or perhaps I would teach the children of the village to throw knives."

"That still might not be enough to support your household."

"I'll give it more thought, then." Lothiriel promised.

"You will have to decide if you will live in the Eastfold or the Westfold."

"I suppose… well, which is better?"

"It depends. Now the Eastfold…" Eomer warmed up to his task of comparing the two sides of his country, going into great detail. For a while, Lothiriel added in comments, causing the two of them to laugh, but after a time her head leaned back against the stable wall, and her eyes drifted shut to picture the scene Eomer depicted.

Eomer noticed she was slowly falling asleep, and silently stood and left the stable to find her a blanket. By the time he returned she was already softly sleeping.

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A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to write, and I hope you enjoyed it!

Card games have been around since the 1300's in England, so I think they work in this setting. The game that I have Lothiriel and Eomer play is based off of As Nas, one of the earliest versions of poker. I have added a few liberties to the game to keep it closer to what might be found in Middle Earth.

As always, questions, comments, concerns, and general reviews are always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I apologize. This was far too long of a gap. I will do better next month!

As always, I am not J. R. R. Tolkien, and I have no desire to make money from this story.

And I would like to thank Christmas 95, coffeebookchiller, kfirey, Catspector, BrightWatcher, and anthi35 for reviewing and encouraging me with this story.

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"Again!"

Eomer was startled by the cry of what sounded like a small herd of children. He paused outside the room the sound was coming from, wondering what was so strange.

"Again! Play it again!"

They were speaking in Western! Eomer realized this with a small shock, and turned to open the door the tiniest bit. He saw Princess Lothiriel sitting cross-legged on the floor with a handful of the children of Meduseld, looking none the worse for being in a small skirmish the day before, or for sleeping in the stables last night. A small lap harp was in her lap, and her shoulder and arm were bound to her side, the white bandages sticking out brightly against the blue of her dress.

She laughed with the children, "Only if you promise not to make fun of my mishaps." She said solemnly, but her eyes sparkled with laughter. "Or at least, you must promise not to make more fun than I do." Eomer realized that she was speaking in a more formal form of Western, but clearly enough for the children to understand her every word.

Lothiriel slid the harp so it was balanced on her knee closer to her left side, and began to play a lively song about the sea. After a few seconds, two of the older children got up and began to do a simple dance from Rohan to her words. The others scrambled to join in. When the words to her song ended, Lothiriel continued to play the chords as the children danced. "Can you teach me this?" She asked, bringing the song to an end.

The children scrambled to translate her words, and then one of the oldest said, "Yes, but you must be… dance boy part."

Lothiriel nodded, and then asked, "Why?"

"You have…" there was a hurried conversation "height." And the children laughed when Lothiriel started giggling. "But most important…" they struggled to find the words "your left arm… hurt."

"I have to be a boy because I cannot move my left arm?"

"Yes." One of the girls said emphatically. "Girl dance with left arm – dance with…" and she trailed and put a hand over her heart which she moved to symbolize her heartbeat. "Boy dance with right arm for…" and she pantomimed fighting with a sword.

"Girls dance with their heart arm and boys dance with their sword arm." Lothiriel repeated. "That is an interesting way to look at it. If I try to be a boy will you teach me how to dance?"

"My lord?" One of the men in charge of caring for Eothain startled Eomer, and he almost slipped the door open the whole way in his surprise. Quickly Eomer closed the door, and turned to face the man.

"Yes, Holdwine, what is it?" Eomer asked, and Holdwine bowed.

"My lord king, the master healer is asking for you. Eothain is fairing well, but he wishes to speak about his ability to travel with you to Gondor." Holdwine replied evenly.

Eomer nodded, and turned to walk with the healer, but a small part of him regretted not being able to observe Lothiriel dance "as a boy." He pushed down the laughter that threatened to spill out as he imagined the farce of Lothiriel learning the wrong part to one of their children dances.

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" _How did your dance lessons with the Lady Lothiriel go?"_ Eomer asked the children the next time he saw them at the midday meal.

The children hid their laughter behind their hands. " _She is very bad._ " One of the girls admitted.

" _No!"_ the oldest exclaimed, staunchly defending Lothiriel. " _We were unable to play music while she danced. She could not find her place in the line._ "

" _Next time ask one of the bards to help you._ " Eomer suggested.

" _We will do that._ " Another replied gravely, and Eomer made his way up to the head table.

Lothiriel was talking animatedly with Eowyn. She looked as lively as she had with the children earlier, but a further deeper glance showed that not all was well. She kept her body as still as was physically possible, and was barely picking at the food in front of her. There were lines of stress barely visible at the corners of her eyes.

"Does something displease you, my lord?" Lothiriel asked, breaking Eomer's concentration.

"Was caring for the children too much this morning?" Eomer asked, surprising her.

"I am not sure I should be surprised that you know that." Lothiriel laughed. "Why would it be too much for me?"

Eomer gestured to her mostly full plate. "Oh, well," Lothiriel blushed. "I've never been much of an eater, especially not when I'm… injured."

"Perhaps taking an afternoon to rest would be best?" Eowyn asked. "I didn't even notice that you were in pain."

"Oh, no. It is a pleasure to help where I can. I am only sorry that I cannot help more. The children are lovely." Lothiriel was over reassuring, trying to ease her friend's concern.

"If you are sure…" Eowyn tone reflected her uncertainty.

"You told me, unequivocally that I could not help you with the packing or the heaving lifting. I have but one task left as I cannot sew one handed."

"But you can play the harp one handed." Eomer pointed out as he took a seat on her right.

"Once again, my lord, I do not know why I should be surprised that you know that." Lothiriel laughed as she blushed. "I have been injured before, and playing the harp was one of the few activities still available to me as I recovered."

"How were you –" Eowyn started to ask, when Lothiriel cut her off.

"It is of no matter." Lothiriel laughed. "The useful point is that I can play the harp to amuse your children and keep them out from under your feet as you pack." She hesitated, "It will be after lunch, and most of them will need rest, so the older ones and I will find something calm to do."

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" _Where are you running to?"_ Eomer was pulled out of his study by the sound of running feet and shouts down the hallway.

The children stopped as suddenly as if they were frozen by magic. " _Lothiriel sent us on a treasure hunt."_ One of the older children replied.

" _If we find the treasure first she'll put us in her magic book!"_ Exclaimed a second.

 _"She'll put us in anyways, silly,"_ said a third. _"She'll put us in first you meant."_

 _"What magic book?"_ Eomer asked.

 _"Come and see!"_ They chorused at him.

As he was about to step out and join them, a counselor stepped into his study. Eomer suppressed a sigh. _Another missed chance_ he thought sadly as he waved the children on and stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

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A week after her injury, Lothiriel woke up having slept through the night for the first time with out pain. She lay in bed, thinking about all she still had to accomplish for the day, when she noticed that there were shadows crossing and crisscrossing by her desk. Shadows that came from her window. The window. The one that Eowyn had told her to watch, and with that thought Lothiriel slowly and carefully got up.

Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Lothiriel walked to the window and saw horses.

She had to smile at her friend; of course the surprise would be horses. What else would be so exciting in Rohan, and she turned to go prepare for the day. She took a second look, and found that she could not look away. These were as horses as mountains were to hills, or a warship to a rowboat. These were Horses.

She watched them interact from the window, so engrossed that she hardly noticed the tap on the door, nor that Eowyn entered the room to sit by her.

"They are called the Mearas." Eowyn explained, smiling at her transfixed friend. "They travel across Rohan through out the year, but they spend a month in the summer here in Edoras."

"They are stunning." Lothiriel whispered. "Are they Eomer King's?"

"They belong to Rohan." Eowyn laughed. "They listen to who ever the King of Rohan is, but they are no more ours than the trees, or the air. We'll mix our horses in with them later, so you will have a whirl of horses to observe for the next day."

Lothiriel had her chance to watch again later that afternoon. She was sent back to her room to finish up her personal packing, when her window distracted her once again. There were more horses as Eowyn had promised. She saw Windfola, and Firefoot, as well as many of the horses that belonged to the marshals and riders, and… Lothiriel wrenched her neck she turned to look so fast. There was Mirime, laying down in the shade of one of the trees. Her Mirime, who was out of the stables, certainly resting but also certainly on the mend. Lothiriel looked around the field as far as she could with the limited view from the window, but she could see no entrance to where the horses grazed.

Thinking it through, Lothiriel opened her window, and looked down. It was but three feet to the ground, or so. Hardly a sharp drop. She gathered up her book and supplies, deciding to go sit and work on her "magic book" as the children here called it. She would be glad of Mirime's company, especially as it was more hopeful to see her horse outside and away from the smell of blood.

She came back to the window and placed her small bundle on the sill, as she prepared to swing her legs over. There was a rush of movement and Lothiriel almost lost her balance as she realized that all the horses had stopped to look at her in various states of concern, and two horses now stood directly before her window with their ears back ready to bite.

Lothiriel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "I just wanted to see my horse." The horses looked even more wary, and their heads lowered in further warning.

 _I thought Mearas understood human languages._ Lothiriel puzzled. _That's what Eowyn told me…_

"Oh!" She exclaimed out loud. "Rohan. Rohirric!" She took a deep breath and tried again, more haltingly this time. " _I…sorry…I have little skill in… with Rohirric. I have a wish… I have a desire to see… horse. My horse, Mirime. She is there."_

The two horses relaxed slightly, and one trotted away to where a main group of Mearas stood together. He touched noses with one tall stallion, and Lothiriel began to understand what was happening.

" _Your King?"_ She asked the horse that still stood guard. "It makes sense," she sighed when he nodded. "I never seem to be able to escape court functions."

A loud call came from the tall stallion, and the second horse backed away. Lothiriel carefully dropped to the ground outside her window, and when horses did not maul her, she turned and curtseyed deeply to the stallion. " _My thanks, Lord King."_ She said while in her deep curtsey, and then turned to go to her horse.

Mirime looked up as Lothiriel drew close. When Lothiriel knelt at her side, Mirime put her nose into Lothiriel's hair and breathed deeply, and began to nose Lothiriel all over. "I am alright, my love." Lothiriel laughed. "You are the one who is still gravely injured. Don't think I have finished scolding you."

Mirime twitched her ear back and forward in a totally unconcerned matter, causing Lothiriel to laugh again. "I was going to work on my book. May I share your shade?" She asked sliding forward to sit with her back to the tree. Mirime nudged Lothiriel over a little further and then placed her head in Lothiriel's lap and took a deep breath.

"Tomorrow we have to leave this place." Lothiriel spoke as she worked. "I wanted to get as much of it recorded as I could while I am here, but unfortunately I do not rest well, and so there has not been enough time to sit and work."

Mirime snorted into her skirt, and Lothiriel looked at her. "That had better not be a comment on my work habits. Remember I am the one who smuggles you extra rations." Mirime looked thoroughly unimpressed, and Lothiriel ran her hand through Mirime's mane for a few minutes before getting to work.

When she looked up again the sun had passed a solid distance, and the shadows were getting longer. The horses had broken her concentration; they were all excitedly prancing around a figure that appeared on the far side of the field. Lothiriel shaded her eyes with her hand to figure out who else was here, when she noticed that Firefoot was trailing the person closely.

"Maybe he won't notice me?" Lothiriel asked Mirime softly.

Mirime gave a soft huff as Lothiriel took up her work again. This time she was almost instantly interrupted.

"Lothiriel! What are you doing here?" Eomer called, walking determinedly towards her.

"I wanted to visit Mirime, and so came to see her." Lothiriel replied, deciding that she did not have to stand up as it would upset Mirime's rest.

"They let you in?" Eomer asked, shocked.

"I am not sure who you're referring too. There were no human guards on my window to ask permission from, and the horses let me in when I explained. I fully recognize that I am only allowed to be here because of Miri." She added, giving her horse a soft pat. "But it seemed like a good place to work, especially since I could be with her as I sat."

Eomer started to laugh. "You climbed out a window to see your horse, facing down the Mearas to do so?"

"Yes?" Lothiriel tried to figure out what was so humorous, but gave up as Eomer almost doubled over laughing.

"You are either insane, or incredibly lucky." Eomer said eventually, straightening up.

"I am fairly certain it's the former, my lord – Eomer. Though the latter is true too."

"What are you working on that brings you into the heart of Rohan?" He asked, sitting down beside her.

"Mirime brought me into the heart of Rohan. Working on my book was an added pleasure."

"Your magic book?" Eomer asked picking it up.

Lothiriel covered her face and groaned. "I have told the children that there is no magic too it. They do not believe me yet."

"May I?" Eomer asked, as he turned the book so that the front cover faced him.

Lothiriel nodded. "My first ones are not so good, I started this when I started my life at court when I had about twelve years of age." Eomer looked at the first page, which contained a drawn picture of a set of rooms. The second had a very dismal picture of a court being held around a grim looking man. "I am coming close to the end of this book, which I think will be good. It will be nice to put this one behind me. There were some good things in it." Eomer had turned to a page that showed Boromir and Faramir at archery practice. "But there were not many."

"These are very good." Eomer said eventually, turning through pictures of men-at-arms, her brothers, the sea, dances… each was like a small imprint of life on the page. As the pages turned the images became better and better.

"Thank you," Lothiriel blushed. "It is very fashionable to keep a journal of a written account of your life, but I find that when I try to write my words become very stiff. It is as if they are all trying to escape from my head at once, and so what comes out is all wrong. I found that I could draw a little, and so started sketching in my journal at a young age. This is the first journal I kept of just pictures."

Eomer flipped ahead a number of pages.

"The start of the war for us," Lothiriel murmured, narrating the well worn page he landed on. "Boromir was sent to defend the boarders, and Faramir was soon sent too." Eomer turned the page. "People from boarder cities began to send their women and children to us." Eomer looked at the despair on the faces of the displaced people, and felt he had seen it on his own as well. He turned the page. "I started to work in the Houses of Healing, as people talked of sending the women and children even further away – to safety." She gently traced the edge of the picture of a place Eomer knew so well. How had she captured such fear in such a calm image?

Lothiriel turned the page. "Then the women and children were sent away, and I had real work to do." The picture showed a little closet that contained cleaning supplies, and another next to it with unprepared jars of herbs.

Eomer turned to the next picture. "Boromir left for Imladris and… did not return." The picture was different than the ones that were before. It showed an imagining of a small girl sleeping, while being protected from monsters in her dreams by a brave warrior with a bright sword and round shield. A horn hung by his side. This picture had a few blots from loose tears. "I drew most of these after the battle at Minas Tirith was over. I wanted to put them down sooner, but there were more important things. I tried to think of a way to represent all that Boromir meant to me, but all that kept coming to mind was this belief I had as a child that he guarded my dreams. Foolish I know…"

"It is well done." Eomer said, tracing the line of Boromir's sword with his finger. "I can speak from experience of being an older brother and a warrior that Eowyn could give me no finer epitaph."

"Thank you." Lothiriel replied after a moment. She turned the page. "The sky became dark." The picture showed the city in shadow, doom and despair were thick. "Faramir returned and was sent away again. And then he returned as still as death." Lothiriel took a shaky breath. "I could not bring myself to draw it all. The sorrow, the grief, the hopelessness… it hung over us day and night. Then the siege began." The picture showed small shapes moving in darkness. The light of the enemy's fires beyond the walls. The smallness of one city standing before the weight of Mordor. "I did not expect to see my family again, I did not expect to live the night." She turned the page. "And then morning came, and with it came the horns of Rohan." She gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"This is very different than our fierce gallop to your aid." He said at last, staring at the picture.

"I imagine it would be." Lothiriel replied with a small laugh.

"For us the hope was to arrive before it was too late, but we were so tired." Eomer looked straight ahead, as if seeing back to that moment. "Managing to skirt around the one army that stood between us was the first time that I believed we might survive this fight, that we might live to tell the tale."

He turned the page. It was an incomplete sketch, as if Lothiriel had been driven to start, but could not bring herself to finish. "I had to do something to get the images of the dead out from my head. They lined the street at one point. The armies were marching towards the Black Gate, and the number of able-bodied men was too few to be everywhere at once. The dead were barely there for an hour or more, but it was… haunting."

"I wish you could have been spared that." Eomer commented softly, and turned the page again.

"Thank you for the kind thought." Lothiriel replied just as soft. "I try to console myself that at least I was allowed to stay and help, but some days I wish that I had gone away. Certainly Father would have been happier if I had, he was most displeased to find me in the City still."

A few pages later Eomer was transfixed by the sketch of Eowyn, lying still as death and almost transparently thin. "I was nominated to be her care taker by the other healers at the Houses. We knew almost nothing about your culture, but we knew that there were two Princes and one Princess, so we worried that your people would be offended if a person of low rank was caring for your royalty. I do not believe she truly noticed me until much, much later when I remarked on the kinship between Faramir and myself."

"I did not know." Eomer replied, looking at the picture as if it condemned his treatment. "I did not see." He looked at Lothiriel. "You and your brothers passed as strangers, and by the time we moved to Edoras we were at a point where our lives became separate too. She dreamed of being a shieldmaiden, I joined my first eored. She became the Lady of Edoras, I was a Captain. Wormtongue came and spouted poison, and Theodred and I did what we could to defend Rohan from his treachery."

Lothiriel took a deep breath as Eomer stopped talking. She felt caught in his gaze, and unable to breathe as he spoke earnestly. "You need not explain yourself to me, Eomer." She said, her eyes darting towards the ground and back up again. "I am not your judge."

Eomer gave her a weak smile. "Perhaps not." He sighed and looked back at the page. "I find that I am my hardest judge, especially after the War of the Ring. Too many of my choices turned to be poor, or inadvisably made. The people of Rohan might have done better elsewhere for a king."

Lothiriel was quiet for a moment as she considered his words. "I do not think that is true." She said at last. "May I show you?" She asked and gestured to her book.

Eomer reluctantly handed it over, and Lothiriel carefully flicked through the pages that were left. "Here is our trip to Edoras, for Theoden King's burial." She showed a picture of her first impression of the Golden Hall, but barely could Eomer take it in before the page was turned. The next page was Theoden King's last rights. Lothiriel had drawn her picture of the crowd of mourners surrounding the barrow. All wore faces carved with grief, but there was an air of determination and hope focused on the two tall figures that stood side by side at the head of the barrow. "They looked to you, to Eowyn as well, but their eyes were all for you." The next picture was of his coronation. "I have never enjoyed a celebration as much." Lothiriel confessed. "The dancing, the company, but it was so gracious that you allowed us to be a part of your people's joy in you. I felt like I was an intruder, stealing their happiness. They wanted you so much."

She flipped ahead some pages again. "Even now, almost a year later, they still hold you so highly." Here was a picture of Eomer and the King's eored training. The men were proud, and full of grace as they spared with each other. The young women along the side of the training fields looked on, hoping to catch one man or another's eye. The picture showed determination and spirit.

"You give your people hope. Worrying about making mistakes or not being enough is pointless. You will make mistakes, you are human. But you are more than enough because you are what they have and what they need. You make me proud to be your friend."

Lothiriel met his gaze evenly, and she felt the world stop for a brief second. Something was happening here, like the tides, pulling her closer to Eomer, when suddenly a bell tolled out the warning for the evening meal.

"You should go." Eomer murmured in a low voice, strangely not meeting her eyes. "Can you make it back into your room with out help?"

"I believe so." Lothiriel replied, neatly packing up her supplies and tying them into a small bundle. To her surprise Eomer rose and helped her to her feet, and then walked her to the window.

She swung her pack over onto the window seat, and turned to him. "I will see you in a moment or two," she reminded him, as he still did not move away.

"I am waiting to make sure that you can climb in on your own." He replied with a hint of mischief. Lothiriel openly rolled her eyes at him, and then deftly leapt up to the ledge, using her good arm as support.

"I was lucky it was not my right arm that was caught," she laughed, smiling down at him from her perch.

Eomer nodded, and watched her slide back into the room. Lothiriel leaned out the window, bringing their faces to an almost even level. "You could have showed me the way you came in. I bet it has nothing to do with climbing."

Eomer laughed with her. "Another time, perhaps." He promised, and his hand with an unconscious gesture gently pushed a small strand of hair off her face. He was about to say more, when a sharp knock at the door made them both jump.

"Lothiriel!" Eowyn called. "Are you ready?"

"Give me a moment!" Lothiriel replied, turning to face the door as Eomer let his hand drop. She turned back to face him.

"I will be with you both in a few minutes." Eomer told her, with a smile.

"Til then, my lord." She gave him a small curtsy and closed the curtains to her room.

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A/N: Once again I truly apologize for such a long delay between chapters. No one told me grad school was going to be this hard.

Please let me know if you have any questions or comments on the story, I love getting both!

Thank you for reading! I will be back November 1st!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I am so sorry about this horrifically long delay. The full explanation is below, if you care to hear it. This will not happen again.

As always, I am not J.R. R. Tolkien

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Eomer did not see much of Lothiriel in the days to follow, as she rode with Eowyn and a tight guard of men and he preferred to ride in the front where he could hear the news the scouts brought of the roads ahead. He decided this was good; as it gave him some much need time to think over everything that had passed during her stay in Rohan.

He reflected on all parts, from the beginning when she was so cold to him, to their truce to become friends, to her decision to gallantly save his closest friend – instead of killing the mercenary that was intently after herself, to finding her in the stable, to finding her in the fields with the Maeras. Every time he thought that he knew all that he could about Lothiriel, she turned a corner and showed him another side. The dagger, the book, the obvious care for her horse, all these parts of her were true and sincere, which was something that Eomer sorely missed.

While women had certainly pursued him before becoming King, there was never an element quite as fierce as there was now. Certainly while he had been in Gondor to collect Theoden King's body the women of Gondor had done everything possible to meet him. Then when he returned to Edoras, after Theoden King's burial, it seemed that everyone he met had a sister, or a cousin, or a daughter they wanted him to meet.

He was tired of it, he realized as he rode. He was tired of being sought after as though he had no say in the matter, and perhaps that was what made Lothiriel so different. Slowly she had come to life about him, and made him like her more with each part of herself she revealed.

That was where the problem was too. He could have pushed forward out in the pasture, and with a kiss moved their relationship from being friends to something closer and dearer. But he decided against it. For the first time in his life, Eomer found himself craving a woman's good opinion of him as a King and a Leader, more than her desire for him physically.

 _Though that would be agreeable to have as well_ , Eomer mused as they started to make camp for the night. There were also the political considerations to take into account. As the Third Marshal of Rohan it would not have mattered to the same degree who he married. As King…

He sighed and leaned tiredly against Firefoot for a minute, before hearing her laughter cut across the distance and the Riders that were between them, and he smiled. His standard bearer had probably offered to tend to the horse they had loaned her for this journey, and had once again been politely refused.

"That might be what I like about her the most." Eomer told Firefoot in confidence. "She never shirks her work, and she makes me want to be as faithful to my jobs as she is to hers. She makes me want to be better."

After the horses had been tended to, and the evening meal prepared and eaten, Eomer heard the pounding hooves of one of his sentries coming in. After being challenged, the rider was allowed through to give the daily report on the horses that were a part of Eowyn's bride piece.

The rider assured Eomer and Eowyn that all was well, and that the yearlings were keeping up with the steady, though slow, pace. Then the rider turned to Lothiriel and reassured her that her horse was also bearing the travel well. By now, their tenth day of travel, the rider was used to having Lothiriel present and to answering her questions. Eomer held back a smile at the memory of Lothiriel being unusually hesitant as she waited through the very first report until the rider was about to leave before asking after her horse.

"So, Lady Lothiriel," Erkanbrand came and sat next to her as she relaxed by the fire, satisfied by the report. "You refused young Gram's request once again and tended to your own horse tonight. Are you always so cruel to you suitors, or is this a special case?"

Lothiriel laughed. "That is not fair!" She protested. "I take care of my horse because I enjoy the work, and because it is a simple motion I can do to start reusing my left hand." She flexed the limb as she spoke. She still wore a bandage when she rode during the day, but at nights she took it off to allow herself more natural movement.

"Then you are not usually this heartless?" Erkanbrand teased.

"Only to thirteen year olds," Lothiriel replied, causing the company around the fire to laugh.

"You must be more friendly with your suitors at home," Aldor, another marshal, advised her. "You will drive them away otherwise."

"Any man who would be driven away by my care for my horses can leave with my blessing." Lothiriel smiled, though she shifted uncomfortably. "And I will take your advice into consideration – when a suitor appears."

Eomer's marshals and captains laughed again and turned to other conversations.

"You must be excited to be so close to home, though." Erkanbrand restarted his private conversation with Lothiriel as Amrothos came to sit between her and Eomer.

"I am." She said simply. "It will be good to see my father, and my brothers again. I'm sure Queen Arwen will keep me occupied for a time, and my household shall be particularly busy since we will be hosting the bridegroom's dance two days after we return, and the bride's engagement dinner a half a week after that. Weddings are so complicated in Gondor." She added with a sigh.

"You are not being fair, Lothi," Amrothos complained. "It is not half as bad as you imply."

"Name one wedding you have attended that you have truly enjoyed." Lothiriel countered. "And no" Amrothos opened his mouth to speak "It cannot be the King's wedding."

Amrothos shut his mouth, and his lips twitched into an ironic smile. "Fair point." He conceded after a few moments of thought.

"Is not your brother married?" Eomer asked. "His wedding must have been enjoyable."

"Elphir's?" Lothiriel shook her head. "His was…" she paused as if looking for the words she wanted. "It was."

"Lothiriel does not want to use the word 'disaster'" Amrothos said in a fake whisper. "But it was close."

"It was not a disaster." She defended, her flushed color belying her words. Amrothos glared at her. "It was not a disaster. Revealing, yes; but disaster, no."

"How was it revealing?" Eowyn asked.

Lothiriel blushed again. "It became very clear that whatever reasons my brother had for marrying this woman… those reasons had nothing to do with her kindness or her generosity."

"She wanted swans to swim before her wedding barge." Amrothos stated bluntly.

"It is a usual tradition for those who marry in our house." Lothiriel defended, picturing the memory. "However we could not convince her that since it was winter the swans that normally rest in our waters left for better food in the south, and that since we were at war we could not spare the men needed to capture some and bring them back."

There was a stunned silence as the Rohirrim processed that.

"She felt slighted, and has not been as receptive to our family ever since." Lothiriel added quietly. "It is easier to understand from her point of view."

"She wanted swans, and was angry because you could not find the swans?" Eowyn could not quite wrap her head around it. "Do I have to have swans?"

Lothiriel and Amrothos laughed. "No. No, that is just for the house of Dol Amroth." Amrothos explained.

"Though, Faramir has not yet chosen a signal for his coat of arms. Perhaps he will choose falcons and Eowyn can be lead from the ceremony by a cast of falcons." Lothiriel laughed.

"Or eagles." Amrothos added. "Those would lend a touch of nobility to his house."

"Except, how would you catch eagles?" Lothiriel asked. "That cannot be easy."

"Perhaps if you lured them to the ceremony with bait," Erkanbrand puzzled it out. "Rabbits might work."

"Or foxes," Eomer added.

The company was happily planning out how to lure eagles from their nests for some time, when Lothiriel stood and handed her blanket to Eowyn.

"I think I shall say goodnight for today." She smiled at her friend. "Tomorrow will be long."

"It is our shortest ride," Erkanbrand pointed out. "What could make it longer than today?"

Lothiriel rolled her shoulders a bit. "That requires a long explanation."

"Lothiriel means that it will be a long day for herself." Amrothos clarified. "She has had a wonderful holiday for the past few months, but responsibility returns at the gates of Minas Tireth."

"With that cheerful thought, I bid you all goodnight once again." Lothiriel laughed and left.

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The King and Queen and a host of nobility met them at the gates of Minas Tireth with banners displayed. The only missing was Dol Amroth, which would have confused Eomer had Amrothos not explained that like Rohan the host family meets guests at the door to their house.

Eomer dismounted to greet Aragorn, and noticed from the corner of his eye that Amrothos stayed saddled, though Lothiriel did not. She curtsied low before Queen Arwen, and then moved with her a few feet off to the side.

They had stopped for only a few minutes before they were on their way. Lothiriel now rode next to the Queen and it took Eomer a moment to see what was different. In the few moments that he had lost sight of Lothiriel she had changed her dress. A full trailing skirt had replaced her green riding skirts, and, he was amazed to see, that she was now riding sidesaddle.

He heard the moment that his riders noticed the change as well. Erkanbrand nudged the rider nearest him and whispered in Rohiric, " _How did she change so swiftly_?"

The other rider whispered back, " _And why would she want to? Eowyn said she hated that saddle_."

Questions unanswered, Eomer nudged his horse up to ride closer to Aragorn's. He noticed that people lined the streets to see the procession ride by. Aragorn's title was shouted, as was his name and the Queen's. But by far and away, the name most called was "Princess Lothiriel!" Children ran to the street side to see her, men and women waved from balconies above.

"The people here truly love her." Aragorn answered Eomer's silent question.

"I cannot understand why." Lothiriel whispered, overhearing. She kept her smile plastered on her face. "I have done nothing all that special for them."

"You are the only princess of the one remaining Princedom." Queen Arwen unnecessarily reminded her.

"Hopefully Eowyn and Faramir will remedy that soon." Lothiriel muttered, almost surprising a laugh from her company.

"I have missed you so, good friend." Queen Arwen commented, turning to look at Lothiriel more fully.

"I am glad to see you again, majesty," Lothiriel replied, nodding her head low in acknowledgement.

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At the door to courtyard of Dol Amroth's holdings in the city the progression stopped. This time all dismounted, and Prince Imrahil greeted them at the door. Eomer bowed and embraced Imrahil, and then stepped back to listen to the formal invitation to dinner the following night offered by King Elessar, and the acceptance of the invitation by Prince Imrahil.

As he tracked his gaze over the crowd that had gathered to listen, Eomer noticed that Lothiriel had not risen from her deep curtsey to her father, nor had Amrothos risen from where knelt on one knee. Imrahil turned to Eomer and noticed the direction of his gaze.

"Amrothos, my son, rise please." Imrahil declared. "There is no need for such ceremony, you were gone for but three months." Amrothos rose to his feet, though Lothiriel did not. "Lothiriel, daughter, you may rise as well. Rohan has taught you deep reverence for you father."

"I have always had deep reverence for my father, sir." Lothiriel replied, moving forward to kiss the back of her father's hand with a small curtsey at his feet. "The months away have only reminded me of how much is owed to him."

Amrothos followed suit, but embraced Imrahil after kissing the back of his hand.

"We shall leave you to your merry gathering, and we shall expect to see you all by midafternoon in a day's time," Aragorn stated, clasping Eomer on the shoulders and nodding to Imrahil. Lothiriel curtsied and Amrothos bowed low again as the King's company moved to remount their horses. They stayed in their positions until the company had moved passed the bend in the main road, taking most of the observers with them.

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There was a flurry of activity as footmen came forward to take the horses to the stable, and with them went most of the company of the Rohirrum. Left behind were Eomer's intimate guard, his marshals, and advisors who would be lodging in Imrahil's considerably sized house. After loudly declaring his happiness at his children's safe return and for the blessing of having such noble guests, Imrahil tossed a few handfuls of silver pennies into the crowd that lingered, and ushered his company inside.

Behind the door they walked through was a courtyard filled with, what Eomer assumed were, the household servants. "It is an old tradition to have a line of your servants to greet your guests." Lothiriel whispered as soft as she could to Eowyn as they walked to the front entrance. "I think normally Father does not do this, but Elphir and Hirieth probably insisted."

"Do you not know?" Eowyn asked, just as softly.

"I have not been to my father's house in Dol Amroth in almost seven years. I cannot remember."

At the front door stood arrayed the immediate household. Elphir and his wife Hirieth were in front, Erchirion stood a little behind them, flanked by Faramir who had two dogs by his side. When they were an appropriate distance away, Eomer and his company bowed, while Lothiriel curtseyed deeply and Amrothos went to one knee again.

"It seems that we are very formal today," Imrahil joked to Eomer with a meaningful glance at Lothiriel and Amrothos who had not risen. Elphir, Erchirion, and Faramir smiled a little at his statement, but Hirieth remained impassive.

"Rise brother, sister," Hirieth, her voice was bland, empty of emotion. "You must be weary from your travels. We are very pleased to see you safe again, and overjoyed to receive our noble host from Rohan."

" _She doesn't sound overjoyed_ " murmured Erkanbrand in Rohirric, and Eomer felt the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Sister, I am delighted to see you again," Lothiriel was replying with a small smile. "I was relieved to hear how well you managed our house during this time. Father and Elphir have written of all your efforts."

Hirieth sniffed at that. "I hope you will find everything to your liking. I made some necessary edits to your plans."

"I am certain that you have done everything perfectly." Lothiriel replied, and at some signal that Eomer did not see the servants turned and went back inside, and the group on the stairs came down to intermingle.

Faramir was almost instantly by Eowyn's side, and the gentleness with which he took her hand, almost as if he was afraid she would slip away, made Lothiriel blush and look around. Amrothos was being greeted by their older brothers, and he then led them over to be reintroduced to Eomer and his marshals. Her father was having a few quiet words with Hirieth, who was focused intently on the conversation, her expression deliberately pleasant and open.

With all the company occupied, and no one paying her any attention, Lothiriel discretely moved a little away from the group and turned to where the two dogs still sat on the stairs. _My dogs,_ she thought with a smile.

Not quite daring to whistle, she was still in company, Lothiriel snapped three times in rapid succession. Her dogs' attention was now focused to a point on her. Lothiriel moved her hand in a sweeping gesture to her heart, and was almost knocked to the ground as her dogs came to her in joyful abandon.

"Huore. Fae." She whispered as she tried to pet both of them with her right hand, her left had become numb from riding without a sling. Her dogs wove around her legs under her full skirt, trained well enough not to jump, but trying to get as close to her as they physically could. "It was too long. I was gone for too long. I am sorry my dears." She crouched down, fighting the urge to simply kneel in the dirt and allow the dogs closer.

After a few minutes she brought the dogs to a sitting position with a sharp jerk of her hand, and looked up to see that she had inadvertently become the center of attention. Hirieth looked at her with ill-disguised disgust and turned and walked into the house. Imrahil was the opposite, barely containing a smile as he said, "I do not believe those dogs will ever allow you out of their sight again. They were most displeased with me for weeks after you left."

Faramir laughed. "After all the trouble we went through to find dogs that would be good companions to your daughter, did you think that we would have given her dogs whose loyalty could be swayed?"

"They are good dogs, Faramir, but you should have thought about what would happen when she traveled." Imrahil responded. "Anardil could barely get them to do anything."

"Foolish dogs," Lothiriel scolded gently, running her hand over each of their heads. "You did not listen to me. I promised you I would come back, and that Anardil would be here in my stead." Looking up at her father, Lothiriel added, "Is he here now?"

Imrahil shook his head. "Later, or tomorrow perhaps. You have a household to run now and guests to guide to their rooms."

Lothiriel flushed a little at the reminder. "Then let us start with rooms." She stood back up, gesturing for the dogs to stand with her. "If you would follow me?" She requested, and led the company into the house.

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A/N: I am so so so sorry. Between grad school, mildly serious illness, work, life, and being published (like in real life!) I have had no time to even post a chapter online.

I hope that you will all forgive me, and we can go back to our once a month routine! So! I will see you all again on July 1 (or June 30th) and I look forward to hearing all of your thoughts/comments/criticism/any thing else!

Thank you all!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien, I do not wish to profit from this story.

Thank you to anthi35 for reviewing (and for reminding me to publish! I truly appreciate it!), and to Anon, kfirey, adanethel, and BrightWatcher for their reviews! You are the best!

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Life in Gondor was not the same as life in Rohan, Eomer noted, not for the first time. Though the differences had been present after the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, he had barely noticed them through his grief, his worry, and the many meetings that led to a sudden departure. The next time he had been in Minas Tireth was for Aragorn's coronation, and to Eomer seemed to be the city's and the country's rebirth. The last time he was in this city was to retrieve the body of his uncle, and the city appeared to still be aglow with their new found love for King and Queen.

This time was different, as though the old formal traditions his advisors had spoken of crept out of their tales and into reality. Eomer, to his embarrassment, sent the maid tending his fireplace running from the sitting room when he walked through it without his shirt on, as he attempted to find a basin to wash in. There was a page standing at full attention outside his rooms when Eomer, fully dressed, walked out to find the way to breakfast.

By the time Eomer was seated at breakfast he was convinced that he had been greeted as "Your Majesty" more times than he ever had in all of his time in Rohan as all of the household staff stopped their work to bow or curtsy to him as he went by, and by the looks on their faces his Marshals were equally uncomfortable with this over attentiveness to station.

The table was set, but no one ate. Imrahil was reading through a pile of notes left by his plate, a pile that was only dwarfed by the one at an empty place a few seats down. As Eomer sat, nodding a good morning to his sister on his left, Imrahil looked up and wished him a pleasant morning. "How did you sleep, Eomer, was everything to your liking?" Amrothos added.

As Eomer answered affirmatively, a man came up and whispered in to Imrahil's ear. Imrahil spoke when Eomer had finished saying, "It seems my daughter is delayed today, she asks that we begin without her."

Hirieth's eyes narrowed, but no one else seemed surprised by the news and breakfast began. Servants filled plates and poured drinks, and Eomer was about halfway through his meal when Lothiriel's presence was announced by her father and brothers standing up as she walked to her seat. Lothiriel gave a small curtsy to her father and brothers and apologized for being late.

"I sent a maid to help you, sister" said Hirieth, "She should have been able to to bring you here on time."

"I must have missed her," Lothiriel replied with a small smile, as servants filled her plate and glass. She thanked them and reached for the first note. "I rose early to walk through the house with Melinir, and we lost track of time as we planned for the upcoming weeks. I cannot thank you enough for caring for my house as I traveled." Lothiriel paused to take a small bite of food as she skimmed over another note and placed it in a separate area from the first when she was done. "Father, I must request the sitting room today, there are many people who must speak with me, it seems." Lothiriel barely looked up as she reached for another note.

Imrahil granted consent, then asked, "Are you sitting alone?"

Lothiriel laughed, "I will probably wish to be sitting alone by the end of the day, but I thought to ask Lady Eowyn if she would care to sit in and meet some of my friends in Gondor."

"Her presence might not be the deterrent you wish for, daughter." Imrahil commented.

"Perhaps Amrothos will be free from training in the afternoon, and will be able to join me then?" Lothiriel asked as she looked towards her youngest brother.

"If you want a deterrent you should ask for Faramir, and I am certain he would love an excuse to sit with his betrothed in the afternoon."

"I will write to him then." Lothiriel was halfway through the organization of her notes. "Father, I must also speak with you later about our party tomorrow night, I have a problem I must address first with you. I fear it is necessary." Eomer noticed how Elphir, Erchirion, and Amrothos all flinched slightly at those words.

Hirieth's eyes flashed. "You cannot mean to –"

"I fear this is between my father and myself, dear sister." Lothiriel's voice was like steel, though she barely looked up from her notes as she spoke.

"Will you see the children today?" Imrahil asked as a tense silence fell after Lothiriel's stern comment.

"I hope to see them after I have finished here." Lothiriel replied, almost finished with sorting her pile. "Would I be able to see my nephew without stealing from your family time, brother and sister?"

"He would hardly forgive us if we kept him from you for a moment longer," replied Elphir with a laugh. "He has been asking for you since he woke, I am told."

"It is the privilege of being his aunt. I am allowed to spoil him as much as our aunt spoiled you." Lothiriel had finished sorting her notes and handed half to a servant who stepped forward to take them. "The rest of these are for you, father," Lothiriel straightened a teetering stack.

"You accept my judgement on all of these?" Imrahil asked gravely.

"I believe that most of them are easy to deal with, the bottom three show very little merit, the top will make you laugh, and the rest are excellent fire starters" Lothiriel replied, now turning to her plate in earnest. "Forgive me, Eomer King and Lady Eowyn, for not greeting you until now. Have you slept well? Were the rooms to your liking?"

As Eowyn answered, Eomer watched as Imrahil read the top note. His eyes shot up and his bark of a laugh was quickly turned into a cough. "As I said, father." Lothiriel commented with a smile.

"May I?" Imrahil asked.

"Please," Lothiriel agreed.

"My friends," Imrahil addressed the Rohirrum, "Please understand that since Lothiriel has come of age, or perhaps even earlier, Elphir and I have received many requests for her hand in marriage, and though we have asked for all marriage proposals to be sent to our King for his judgement a few daring suitors have still tried to appeal for Lothiriel's hand directly."

"You are generous with them, sir." Erchirion commented. "I feel that any who cannot follow a simple direction should not be allowed even the courtesy of their appeal being read."

"Perhaps you will change your mind when you discover that I hold in my hand a chance to rid ourselves of your sister for merely one of the war boats in our fleet and new supplies every six months. A bargain, if I ever I saw one. Lothiriel, I am afraid your new husband does not leave a name or where to contact him, but since he seems to be sea-bent I shall send you off to find him like the daughters of old with a little grain in your pocket and my written consent in your hands."

"And the blessing of her dear brothers," Amrothos continued. "If this is to be a tale of old she needs our blessings"

"And three wishes," Erchirion added, "Which are only to be used in desperate times."

"Which of course you will use before you even find your husband, as often happens in these stories," Elphir concluded.

"But I will use them well," Lothiriel replied, pushing back her chair and rising. "Probably rescuing him from bandits, or something of the like. Lady Eowyn, I see that you have finished eating, would you walk with me? I would have you meet some of my friends today, and I would enjoy your company."

"Of course," Eowyn pushed her chair away and rose as well.

"I have enough time for a short tour of the house, if you are finished with breakfast as well Eomer King."

Eomer was already rising as he accepted, his Marshals stood with him.

"We will prepare for our meetings later, Eomer King," Erkanbrand told him, and with a small signal a servant stepped forward to guide them.

"We shall see you all again at dinner," Lothiriel informed the hall, and she walked over to Eowyn and Eomer and led them through the door Eomer had entered through.

 _Gondor was very different_ , Eomer thought as the door snapped closed behind him.

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Lothiriel concluded the tour of the house with the room that she would be occupying for most, if not all of, the day. "I have asked that the children be brought in for a few minutes before the day really begins." She explained as she opened the door and saw, to her relief, that the presents she had commissioned were already placed there. "Most households still honor this tradition, where once a month the lady of the house greets the children of the house no matter their station, though others are changing it to include only the children of the upper servants. In Gondor, children are working with their parents as soon as they are able to, or are apprenticed out as soon as may be, which makes time with them short."

Eomer could feel a headache beginning behind his eyes. Lothiriel had been chattering almost ceaselessly since the breakfast room. Though he did not know her well, this seemed unusual behavior for the talkative, yet not manic, woman he met in Rohan. What had changed since yesterday morning?

"I will be meeting with my friends in a short while, but if you would rather not meet the children of the house I can instruct a servant to bring you back here before my friends arrive." Lothiriel addressed the comment at Eowyn.

"I will stay, but only on the condition that you sit and perhaps breathe." Eowyn replied with a wry smile. Eomer almost sighed with relief that he hadn't imagined the frantic pace of Lothiriel's behavior.

"There is always a condition." Lothiriel laughed, but gestured for them to be seated first before selecting a seat for herself. "You need not stay Eomer, if you do not want to. I know you have meetings later today."

"I would meet Elphir's son if I may." Eomer commented, as Lothiriel nodded to the servant who followed them into the room. The servant left, closing the door behind.

"Alphros is a delight." Lothiriel informed him.

"I am certainly glad you think so, sister." Elphir said, entering the room with a small dark haired child in his arms, the servant behind him retook his post. "He certainly thinks the world of you. Alphros, look! It is your Aunt come back from her travels, and the King of Rohan, and the Lady Eowyn are here to see you."

The boy was no more than a handful of years old, and he warily eyed the strangers before gesturing demandingly to be brought to the floor. As Alphros gave a credible bow towards Eomer and Eowyn, Lothiriel cautiously slid to the edge of her seat. "Hirieth?" she asked slowly, eyeing the door.

Elphir shook his head, and Lothiriel sat on the floor and Alphros climbed into her arms, hugging her tight.

"Let me see you, beautiful child," Lothiriel said, slowly pulling out of the hug. "Yes, your eyes look the same, your hair is a little longer, but something is vastly different… now what could it be?"

"I turned four!" Alphros exclaimed.

"You turned four without me?" Lothiriel sadly asked. "I thought I asked you not to!"

"You promised me you would bring me presents, and that when you returned I could have another birthday." Alphros informed her solemnly.

"I suppose I did." Lothiriel replied, equally solemn. "If your father would find the blue bag on the table, yes that one." Lothiriel guided Elphir, who returned with the required bag and sat on the rug next to his son. "Let me pull out one," Lothiriel requested, taking the bag before Alphros could reach it. "All of these are gifts for you, but one is not a toy." Lothiriel pulled out a small dagger, not much larger than the one she wore in her boot. "The children of Rohan were horrified that I had not given you a weapon yet, as for young boys in Rohan it is a gift for their third birthday. This is not a toy Alphros, but next year, when you start weapons training, it will be yours to use wisely." Alphros nodded. "I will give this to your father for safekeeping for now. The rest of the bag are toys for you."

Alphros let out a shout of joy, and without abandon started pulling out carved soldiers and horses from the bag. Within a minute he lined them up for an impromptu battle.

"A dagger?" Elphir asked.

"Eomer King or Lady Eowyn can explain it to you, and possibly to me as well." Lothiriel smiled up at Eomer from her seat on the ground. "All I know is that when I asked the children what I should get my four-year-old nephew, they were adamant that this be a part of the gift, and were completely taken by the fact that I had not yet given my nephew such a gift."

Eomer started to explain, but a knock at the door, pulled Lothiriel's attention. "Excuse me," she said, and rose to the table as she nodded to the servant inside the room to open the door.

In entered a group of twenty children, ushered by a middle aged woman. The children curtseyed or bowed to the room at large before rushing to Lothiriel by the table. As Lothiriel greeted each child, most of them by name, she asked them questions about their apprenticeships, or studies, or families. To the boys she gave small kites, the likes of which the children of Rohan played with, and to the girls she gave small wooden dolls with dresses. After each child was greeted and given a gift, he or she thanked Lothiriel, bowed or curtseyed again and left the room. The last two were obviously twin brothers, and were the oldest, or at least the largest of the group.

Lothiriel laughed when she finally addressed them. "Annor, and Anun, are you not too old for this? Why are you not training?"

"Master Anardil sent us here. He said that if we were to be your knights one day then we were to start now." One of the twins said, and the other presented a woven crown of flowers from behind his back.

"Boys," the woman who had brought the children in stepped forward with a serious expression on her face. "We spoke of this, you know that you will not be – "

"Able to be my knights today, you must attend all of your trainings first. When you are sixteen, six years from now, you may then pledge yourself to me." Lothiriel broke in. "But I will accept your flowers for now," and she sank low in a graceful curtsy that put herself on level with the boys. The two had a small disagreement over which way the flowers were supposed to face, but Lothiriel remained perfectly still as they twisted the crown until they were satisfied.

Lothiriel rose, and said, "I know you must return to the yards now, but here is this" and she took one of the ribbons from each sleeve of her dress and offered them to the boys. "Tokens from me, as I acknowledge your desire to by my knights one day." The boys bowed and left. Lothiriel caught the arm of the woman before she walked out after them.

"The orders we placed this morning, Melind, will they be here on time?" Lothiriel asked in a low whisper, as Elphir helped Alphros put the carvings back into the bag.

"Everything should be ready, my lady," Melind replied, and was about to go, but stopped and asked in an even quieter voice, "Fifteen offers of marriage?"

Lothiriel sighed and shook her head. "I need you to spread the word that all messages sent here will not be treated with seriously. I need it known that my father laughed. This is out of hand, and it must stop."

Melind nodded, curtseyed, and left.

Elphir was on her heels, holding the bag in one hand, and Alphros's hand in the other. "I did not spend any time with you!" Lothiriel bemoaned, crouching down to her nephew's eyes. "Tomorrow morning, perhaps we can escape to the market, you and I. What do you think?"

"And find gingerbread?" Alphros asked hopefully.

"Possibly a few items first, but yes, gingerbread is always needed." Lothiriel laughed, and gave him a hug before standing up to Elphir's level. "If that is acceptable to you."

Elphir gently dislodged the crown of flowers and held it gently around the bag. "I will put this in your room," he said by way of an answer. "It is good to have you back."

Lothiriel smiled a little at that, though the smile was strained. As Elphir left the room she nodded to the servant who was at his post. "Please bring in the first appointment for today."

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A/N: Small delay, shorter this time. I'm narrowing the window between my goal for posting and what happens. See you in 20 days!

As always, all questions, comments, concerns, etc are good to hear about!


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